


Let the Bidding Begin At ...

by FlyBoy



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyBoy/pseuds/FlyBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A standard mission begins peacefully but rapidly turns into a hellish journey for John Sheppard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Capture

John Sheppard and his team exited the Stargate to a breath-taking vista – cloud-free blue skies, warm air, fields of green, and no one shooting at them. All in all, a most pleasant view. The Stargate sat in the middle of an overgrown field with a grove of trees visible in the distance. From their perspective, Sheppard thought the trees looked vaguely like evergreen trees. Taking in the sight, he smiled, nodded his head, and said simply, "Nice!"

Agreeing with his leader's observation, Rodney added, "Sort of makes up for that water planet on Monday, the one where we almost drowned!"

"We'd didn't almost drown, Rodney! Can't you ever tell a story without exaggerating the truth?" he kidded his teammate.

"Well, I almost drowned. I distinctly remember my life flashing before my eyes – at least part of it – you know I've had such a life filled with world-changing accomplishments that it would be impossible to get all of it into one flash."

"Don't worry, Rodney. The early years were nothing to write home about, if that helps it go faster next time."

"Thank you ever so much Colonel Inspiration." The good-natured banter paused for a moment while McKay reviewed the data from the scanner he had brought with him from Atlantis. Examining the small screen of the device closely, he announced, "I'm getting a distinct energy reading from that direction" He pointed to his left.

"How strong?" Ronon asked.

"Strong enough to be worth checking out."

"Then that is the direction we're going in. Come along my hearty travelers. Let us enjoy this splendid warmth and sunshine, for tomorrow surely we'll be on some frozen iceberg of a planet."

"I hope it's not far. You know I've still got that problem with my left arch."

"Yes, Rodney, we know. You're falling apart at the age of 40. By the time you hit 50 there will nothing left but your brain," Sheppard smirked.

"And his mouth," Ronon added.

"Hey! Hey! I'm standing right here, Conan! I can't help it if my feet aren't built for these 20 mile hikes you guys like to take. Can we slow the pace down a little here? And I am not 40 years old. I'm only 35."

"You need to spend more time in the gym, McKay," Sheppard observed, which was true. He knew that it would elicit a fairly predictable response.

"Well excuse me for being busy trying to save the world. I don't have the luxury of frolicking in a gym like some people."

"Frolicking? Ronon, do you frolic? Have you ever frolicked?"

"Nope."

"Teyla? Do you frolic?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"See, McKay, no frolicking. And you need to exercise muscles other than you big brain so that when we go on missions where you find interesting energy readings you can keep up with the rest of us – not to mention the times when the Wraith or some other bad guys are chasing us or shooting at us. Come on, you're slowing us down."

"Well then stop running so fast."

With Sheppard in the lead, the team headed off into the wooded area to the north side of the field. Ronon followed about 5 feet behind Sheppard, McKay next, with Teyla bringing up the rear.

For someone who made his living gathering experimental data, McKay's observation skills outside of the lab were appalling. He noticed the sun and clear skies but didn't pick up on other details about his surroundings. Ronon and Teyla, however, had spent their entire lives learning to do exactly that – watch your surroundings. When it comes down to being aware of your surroundings or dying an unexpected death because you missed some warning sign, you tended to pay attention to the details.

Ronon and Teyla continually performed visual searches both left and right while Sheppard paid more attention to what was in front of them – reasonable, since he was in the lead.

After about ten minutes Sheppard paused and asked, "How much farther, McKay?"

"Looks like not much farther. Maybe 500 yards."

"Anything else?"

"No, actually, very little else. I wonder if the batteries on this thing are dying. Usually I'd be getting lots of other readings. I guess it must have the batteries. Even the Ancients had to have transportable power – the Ancient equivalent of the Energizer Bunny! I wonder …"

Before McKay was able to finish the sentence, however, he felt a sudden sting on his chest. Instinctively he reached down to see try to swat away what he assumed was some sort of flying insect. No insect was visible. He felt everything begin to sway. The horizon was shifting, just like it would on a ship in rough seas. He fell to his knees and noticed for the first time that the same thing was happening to his teammates. Ronon fell sideways, hard. Must have hurt, thought McKay. Teyla also fell, more in the fashion of a person fainting – wilting. He was having trouble seeing clearly but he thought he also saw Sheppard go down. Damn, he thought. What the hell is happening? His mind was fogging. In addition to the horizon moving, his limbs felt heavy and it felt like he was trying to swim through really thick mud. Falling to the ground he closed his eyes and tried desperately to make his mind work enough to make some sense of what he had just seen.

His eyes snapped open when he heard a voice nearby say, "Got four of 'em, boss."

Another voice, also unseen, commented, "Nope. That one's a Satedan. They're too hard to train. Not worth the effort. Can't get a good price for them. Too bad. This one looks young and strong. But they're just too damned stubborn and almost impossible to train."

McKay felt hands grab him and move him briefly. "This one's kind of soft." The voice moved on. "But look at this one!" he commented as he came upon Teyla. "Nice!" The voice moved forward a few more feet and came to Sheppard. "This one too! Not a woman like that one but he's young enough, looks strong."

"Good, let's load 'em up and get out of here."

With adrenaline coursing through his system from what he was hearing, McKay made an all out effort to move and protest. He was able to move his arms and made an effort to sit up. All he was able to get out was "Stop!"

For the first time McKay saw the two men connected with the voices. One was older, short, and overweight, with a full-beard. The other one was younger, trimmer, with no beard. Both wore multiple layers of clothes and hats which seemed excessive for the current climate. They both looked like they hadn't seen a shower in weeks. McKay's one word caused both men to jump.

"What the …?" the younger one asked.

The older one said, "Something's wrong. That should have knocked 'em out for hours. Come on, help me with this one and we'll get out of here." McKay tried again to speak but the words just couldn't get from his brain to his mouth. He saw the two men grab Sheppard, remove his weapons, throwing them aside, and throw him roughly into something hidden in the bushes beside the road. They were headed back to grab Teyla when McKay tried again, "I said STOP!"

The two men froze.

McKay tried again, "I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!" he warned. He made fumbling attempts to reach his side arm but his fingers were not cooperating. Finally he did manage to reach his weapon and somehow grab hold of it enough to fire a shot. The shot was not remotely aimed in the right direction, striking a tree, causing a shower of leaves to fall onto the road.

The older man said, "Come on, let's get out of here!" McKay heard the two men head back into the bushes and then caught a glimpse of a horse drawn cart racing off back toward the Gate. "Sheppard!" he cried but the cart was already beyond the range of his still weak voice.

He fell back to the ground and closed his eyes, trying desperately to shake off whatever was happening to him. Opening his eyes he looked down to where he had first felt the sting and this time noticed a tiny dart-like thing sticking out of his vest. With supreme effort he was able to grab the end of the dart and pull it out of his vest. It looked as if the dart had hit the strap of his backpack and his vest, slowing it down enough so he was only stuck by the tiniest point of the tip-end. He tossed the dart aside and made an effort to stand.

"Bad idea," he muttered to himself when the world started to swim around him. "Come on, McKay, get it together," he ordered himself. Closing his eyes he started to drag himself toward Ronon and Teyla. When he finally reached Ronon he felt all around the big man's chest. He finally found a dart similar to the one he had found stuck in his vest. It looked like more of the dart made it into Ronon, giving him a much bigger dose of whatever was used to drug them. He pulled the dart out of Ronon's chest. Tossing the dart aside he crawled a few more feet to reach Teyla where he did the same inspection and removal. "Teyla," he yelled, slapping at her face. He failed, however, to elicit any response. "Come on you guys, help me here! They took Sheppard! Ronon, Teyla, wake up! Come on!"

Working his way back and forth between them he tried everything he could think of to bring them back to consciousness. His own mind was starting to clear a bit more. He remembered the canteen strapped to his waist. Pulling the canteen lose he opened the top and poured a bit of the cold water onto Ronon's face. Even this only brought the smallest of reactions.

"Damn. What did they put in these things?" he wondered aloud.

All of his efforts and bursts of adrenaline over the last ten minutes were starting to leave him feeling totally drained. He lowered his body to the ground, letting his head rest on Ronon's chest. "I'll just rest for a minute and then try again."

But McKay's minute turned into nearly an hour. McKay first noticed movement under his head. He opened his eyes and saw Ronon struggling to regain consciousness and the ability to move. Teyla was also starting to come around. Raising himself to sit up, McKay once again tried slapping gently at Ronon's face, "Come on, big guy, wake up?! I need you!"

"McKay?" he heard Ronon mumble.

"Rodney?" he heard from Teyla and she wiped her hands across her face. "Rodney, what happened?"

"Teyla! Two men shot us with some kind of dart-thingies. They knocked us out. They took John!"

"John?" Teyla said, trying to shake the sleepiness from her eyes. "John!?"

"They took him!" Rodney answered. "I saw them load him into some kind of cart and head off toward the gate. They were coming back to take you next but they heard me coming around. I yelled something at them. They took off when I fired a shot at them. But John was already in the wagon and they took him!"

Ronon was struggling to get to his feet, wobbling a great deal as he tried. "Easy there, big guy," McKay commanded. "I can't pick you up. Give it a minute."

But Ronon was a stubborn man. Ignoring McKay's instruction, advice or suggestion (take your pick), he continued struggling to regain his footing. Before long he had pushed through the swaying and the fogginess and was standing upright. He was standing still, clearly trying to make his head stop spinning, but he was upright. Teyla worked to do the same, pausing as she got to her hands and knees before pushing on to the full upright position.

When his two teammates were back on their feet and seemed to be stable enough to move without crashing back to the ground, Ronon asked, "Where was the cart?"

McKay pointed and Ronon shuffled slowly in that general direction. To the outside observer it would have appeared that Ronon was drunk as a skunk. He staggered and weaved with all of the grace of a person who was totally plastered.

Rodney had also worked his way to standing, although it was less of an effort for him. Teyla stayed next to him while Ronon searched through the bushes for any clues as to who had attacked them.

"Can you tell me anything else about these men, Rodney?" she asked McKay.

"There were two of them, one younger and one older. They both wore hats."

"Did they say anything?"

"Yes!" Rodney remembered. "They looked at all of us like they were checking out livestock. They said that Ronon looked strong but that he was Satedan and would be too hard to break. They were disappointed because they thought he could bring a good price. They were really taken with you and Sheppard."

"Slavers," she said with venom in her voice. "Ronon, quickly, we must get back to the gate."

Ronon moved back into view. Without waiting for him to get back to them Teyla repeated the one word, "Slavers!"

In the time he had known Ronon, McKay had never seen the man afraid of anything. But the word, "slavers" brought him to a halt. McKay could almost see the color drain from his face at the mention of the single word. For a minute he thought Ronon was going to topple over like a giant redwood, but somehow the big man managed to stay upright.

Composing himself, Ronon started shambling towards the gate and simply said, "Come on! We've got to go – now!"

The three of them, feeling somewhat less than optimal, to say the least, struggled back toward the gate. The trek took much longer than it had taken them coming out from the gate originally. When they finally reached the clearing that housing the gate, Teyla leaned on the DHD to catch her breath.

Impatiently Ronon ordered, "Dial it!"

Not sure what was happening, Rodney asked, "We're not leaving! We've got to find Sheppard."

Ronon looked at him and said, "They're long gone by now." He pointed to the ground to a collection of horse prints that led toward the platform that held the gate. "They're gone, McKay. Wherever they go, they're gone."

"But we can't leave him!" Rodney complained.

"We will not, Rodney," Teyla responded. "But we are in no shape to search for them and we don't have a clue where to even begin."

The gate engaged, Teyla used her hand-held device to send through the proper gate code to lower the shield, and the three of them moved through the wormhole.

The Atlantis gate room looked more familiar, welcoming, and comforting than he could ever remember it feeling. As soon as the gate shut down, Ronon looked upward, not even trying to think about climbing all of the stairs to the control room, and shouted, "Get Lorne! Sheppard's been taken by slavers!"

Gate room personnel flew into action. Announcements were made citywide ordered Major Lorne to report to the gate room immediately. Calls also went out for Colonel Caldwell since the Daedelus had just arrived earlier that morning. Medical personnel were also summoned to the gate room.

Atlantis personnel did what they were trained to do – they swung into action, ready to conduct a search and rescue mission for their missing comrade.


	2. Market

Many worlds away, John Sheppard regained consciousness more slowly than Ronon, Teyla, or McKay had done. The dart that McKay had removed from himself and his friends remained in Sheppard, giving him the maximum dose of the drug.

The traders had learned of the substance years earlier on a planet that was overrun with large, fierce cow-like creatures. The natives of that world had discovered that a small dose of the substance could stop a charging beast in its tracks, bringing it down almost immediately. Over the years, the traders had learned through trial and error what was too much and how much was too little. The older trader was somewhat surprised that the usual dose had not worked on all of the most recent travelers.

Ever so slowly awareness returned to Sheppard. His head was foggy and everything seemed to be moving almost in slow motion (not quite, but enough to be seriously disconcerting). As more awareness returned he became aware that something was not right. It was when he tried to bring his right hand up to his face that he discovered that his hands were securely bound behind his back. He lifted his head a bit only to be overwhelmed with vertigo and nausea. He dropped his head back to where it had been, closed his eyes, and tried waiting for the weird feeling to pass.

Opening his eyes once again he tried to survey his surroundings first before trying to lift his head. He discovered that his ankles were bound in the same fashion as his hands, and that he was moving. He sensed the steady back and forth motion of ride on an almost smooth surface. Every once in a while he felt a bump and was jostled around. On one of those bumps he realized that he was not the only person in the vehicle. He tried to look around but was not able to without lifting his head. Not anxious for a repeat of the earlier experience he decided to wait a moment, instead listening to the two voices coming from somewhere nearby.

"Why didn't the darts work on all of 'em?" he heard one ask the other.

"I don't know. It's always worked before. Years ago I found that too much would kill a man before we could get him back, so I backed off a little of how much I used. But I've never seen anyone come up out of it so quick."

Sheppard didn't like what he was hearing. He decided to risk the vertigo again, lifting his head to see who was with him. He was half hoping that his fellow captives were the rest of his team. At the same time he desperately hoped that they had somehow escaped and were safely back in Atlantis.

But when he looked around he saw that he was in a wagon of some sort and that the other people in the back with him were complete strangers. All male by the looks of it but it was almost impossible to be sure. Sheppard thought he smelled horse and guessed that his captors were from a world that did not have motorized travel.

Sheppard felt the wagon stop. He felt the wagon move in a different way as apparently one his captors jumped down. He heard the distinctive sound of a Stargate being dialed and heard the usual whoosh sound the wormhole made as it established a connection with another gate. The wagon moved again and Sheppard suddenly felt the familiar demolecularization and remolecularization of Stargate travel.

The wagon came to a stop. The wormhole they had just passed through shut down, and was immediately followed by the sounds of the gate dialing out again. Another wormhole was established and again he felt the wagon move into and through the gate.

The process repeated yet again. Whoever these guys were, they were certainly doing a good job of hiding their tracks. Either that or they were covering huge distances that more than one gate could handle. Either way, Sheppard was not comforted in any way.

After several trips through the wormhole, the wagon moved away from the gate and moved down a rutted, pot-holed road. As the cargo in the back, John was jostled a lot, occasionally hitting his head against the side of the wagon. Still suffering the effects of the drug, he fell asleep and lost track of how far they traveled.

When consciousness returned, John realized that wherever he was, there were sounds of other people nearby. This world sounded busier. This gave him some hope that he could get free, or that someone would see what was happening to him and help him get free. He knew that passing through several different Stargates was going to make it much more difficult, if not impossible for his teammates to follow his trail and find him.

The noises coming from outside the wagon were getting louder and more varied. Sheppard was not able to lift his head enough to see over the edges of the wagon to see where they were passing so he could only rely on what he was hearing and feeling. The wagon rolled on for some time, apparently passing through a crowded busy place.

After what could have been about an hour (he couldn't see his watch to tell), the wagon drew to a stop and he felt the wagon sway as the driver and his assistant apparently got down to the ground. When nothing seemed to happen, Sheppard lifted his head as much as he could and yelled to anyone, "Hey! Can anybody hear me?"

No one answered his call but he heard (and felt) a loud bang as something struck the side of the wagon, causing him to jerk back in surprise. "Ok," he said to himself, "we're communicating at least."

"Hey!" he yelled again. After a few moments a man came into his view, a man in his mid-50s, overweight, and with an angry look on his face.

"Shut up!" he yelled back at John.

"Why are you doing this? We're peaceful explorers. We don't mean any harm. I'm sorry if we stepped in your sacred ground or whatever we did." Not knowing why he had been kidnapped he decided to cover all of the bases.

Before he could continue his thought however, the man reached forward, grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. "Keep your damn mouth shut! We'll be done soon enough."

"Done with what?" John asked, clearly disregarding the instructions he had just received.

The man let go of John's shirt and he fell back to his original position.

"I just need some answers!" John told him. The thought was formed and his mouth was starting to work when he felt the man slap his face with an open hand – hard. The slap jerked his head back, again hitting the side of the wagon. Feeling the sting of the slap, John looked at the man who simply said, "You lay there and keep your damn mouth shut."

The wagon shifted as the man got down from the wagon. John lay still, trying to decide what would be the best course of action. Clearly conversation was not this guy's strong suit, so that left escape or aid from someone else as his most likely options.

Others in the wagon had apparently been caught in the same fashion. The others began to stir as the effect of the drug wore off slowly. John thought that whatever they used sure packed quite a kick. To try to calm himself a bit he thought that he should try to get some of the drug to give to Rodney the next time he got too excited about something ridiculous.

Without access to his watch, John could not tell the specific time. Since he didn't know what planet they were on he didn't know anything about the length of day on this planet. He was able to look up to the sky and saw that wherever he was, the sun was about at its peak, so the local time was noon. That was one fact that John had. But he had no idea if it was noon on a planet with a 24-hour day, or noon on a planet with a 40-hour day.

Granted, there was not much else he knew for sure. He didn't know who had kidnapped him, he didn't know why he had been kidnapped, he didn't know where he was, he didn't know if his team members were alive or not. All in all, John did not like being at someone else's mercy and control.

After too long, John felt the wagon move. Before he realized what was happening, he found himself picked up by a new guy, apparently a very strong guy, and not the guy he had seen earlier. New strong guy lifted John from the wagon like he was a doll and tossed him over his shoulder. John considered struggling to get free but realized that with both his hands and legs bound quite tightly that struggling was not a good option at the moment.

Despite the awkward position, John tried to look around. He thought he saw some other people, but he wasn't able to get a good view since he was being tossed around by new strong guy. John noticed that they were walking up some steps. At the top of the steps he was dropped like a sack of potatoes being tossed onto the floor.

"Hey!" he started to complain. He quickly noticed that the big strong guy had a couple of friends, nearly carbon copies, all as tall as Ronon and all looking like they were pure muscle. Clearly this was another time when struggling was not an option.

The ropes that held John's legs together were cut which was a tremendous relief. John was rolled face down on the hard wooden floor and felt the ropes holding his wrists also cut. His instinct was to fight but after so many hours of being bound in the same location, not to mention being drugged, his muscles were not in the mood for a fight.

His captors rolled him back over onto his back and rebound his wrists, this time in front of his body. They hauled him to his feet, which thankfully were not bound again, and with one guy on each side, led him across what looked for all intents and purposes like a stage. "Ok," he thought, "this is getting stranger and stranger."

For the first time John noticed that the stage was actually the center of attention for a good-sized crowd of people. Scanning the crowd he saw no faces he recognized and no clothing styles that he recognized. He was hoping to see some sign of where he was and why he was there, but no.

John was led to what appeared to be front and center of the stage. Before he knew what was happening, John's bound wrists were pulled forward and attached to some sort of hook hanging down. Quickly looking up John saw that the hook was attached to a rope which ran up to a cross beam above the stage. The rope was pulled upward and John was suddenly standing there on a stage in front of strangers,

Other men of varying ages were brought to the stage in the same manner and were strung up like John had been. John couldn't believe what he was seeing. As best he could tell, when the big guys finished their work, there were twelve men hanging on the stage in front of the crowd. John didn't know what to expect. What this some sort of trial? What could he have done that was serious enough to earn treatment like this? Was execution next? What the hell was happening?

John's attention shifted when he heard a voice that was clearly some sort of an announcer, speaking loudly. The crowd quieted and attention shifted to where a new guy was standing. New guy was at least not a hulk of muscle like the two guys who strung him up earlier. New guy looked more like the first guy who had kidnapped him, a bit older and a bit thick around the middle.

New guy looked out to the crowd and in a booming voice that easily carried across the assembled group, said, "Ladies and gentlemen! We have got some fine slaves for sale this afternoon. I mean, look at the quality of these fine young fellows!"

Someone in the crowd yelled out that they needed to see more. The announcer guy gave an order and the two muscle guys reappeared, pulled out big knives and started cutting the clothes from the men strung up on the stage. Most wore simple clothing that fell away easily when cut. When they came to John's uniform, however, they had to work harder.

With skill, having clearly done this many times before, they sliced off John's jacket and t-shirt and then turned to his pants. John's belt gave them some difficulty, but before long they had cut that away as well. John's pants were bunched around his boots which thankfully no one tried to cut away. John's boxers went quickly and were thrown to the side.

Profound embarrassment slammed into John. He had not been naked in front of strangers in years and did not like the way everyone was looking at him like some dumb farm animal. John's instinct was to try to hide his crotch from the crowd, preferring that no one see his penis. But with his hands bound and stretched over his head, that was impossible.

There was no way for John to be more exposed and vulnerable than he was at this very moment. John Sheppard was a man always in control. He did not like being in a situation where he was not in control, especially one as bad as this one. "Ok," John thought, "This is bad. Really, really bad. What the fuck is going on here?"

The voice of the leader boomed across the crowd once again and he reached John. "This fine specimen can give years of good, hard work wherever you need him." The auctioneer walked over to John and slapped his middle. "See. Good firm muscle, no fat." The auctioneer's hands moved down to roughly grab John's balls. Pulling them out away from his crotch, the auctioneer said, "And he's intact, too, so he'd be good breeding stock." Grabbing his face roughly, he gripped John's chin and added, "And he looks good, too, doesn't he?" Walking away from John to the edge of the stage, the man said, "Whatever you need, this guy can do it. Need a field hand? Here you go. He's young and strong. Need someone to pull a plow? Here's your guy! Need a house slave? Look at this trim body! He'll entertain all your guests as he serves you in whatever role you need." Turning his attention back to the crowd, he asked, "What am I bid for this strapping young man?"

A voice from the crowd yelled out, "Five."

"Five?" the stage guy responded with a look of mock surprise. "This man is worth far more than five. Can someone give me a serious bid?"

Someone in the crowd yelled back, "Ten."

"Oh, Jesus," John realized, "they're auctioning me off like a head of cattle!" John tried to struggle a little but realized he didn't have much mobility at all. Since he couldn't move his body he decided that he needed to do the only thing he could do, complain. "I'm Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Air Force. I've been kidnapped and my people will come looking for me."

Some members of the crowd gasped in astonishment, apparently not accustomed to a slave speaking out during the auction. The auctioneer turned to John and gave a quick nod to one of the two muscle men. John felt a vicious kick to the back of one of his legs, which caused him to gasp in pain.

Turning his attention back to the crowd, the auctioneer continued to call out for bids and bids kept coming in. Whatever the unit of exchange was, John didn't know, but bidding seemed to stall at 500. While the bidding had been going on, the two big muscles guys had examined John's boots and figured out how to remove them, in the process getting rid of what remained of John's pants. John hung there now totally naked and completely at the mercy of these strangers.

Apparently while he had been distracted with the removal of his boots the bidding had concluded. The rope pulling John's arms upwards was lowered and he felt his complaining muscles relaxing a tiny bit. The two big muscle guys grabbed John's arm and moved him off to the other end of the stage from where he had entered. They moved down some steps and stopped in front of a table where another man was apparently collecting the money for John. When the transaction was completed the two big muscle guys shoved John forward to another guy who looked him over before tying a new rope to the existing rope holding his hands together. Like a dog on a leash this new guy started to lead John to some as yet undetermined location. Too much was happening way too fast and John's head was still swimming from the drug he had been given. When little stones on the ground hurt John's feet, causing him to walk more slowly, the rope was pulled tight, yanking him forward, nearly pulling him face forward onto the ground.

John thought, "Enough is enough." He decided that this just couldn't be happening. When the rope leading him was pulled he had regained some feeling in his arms and decided it was time to pull back, which he did. The guy leading him only yanked the rope harder, this time succeeding in pulling John to the ground. The guy leading didn't stop, though, so John found himself being pulled across the rocky ground. "Aw! Hey!" John yelled at his new captor.

A new voice appeared behind him instructing the rope guy to stop a minute and get John back on his feet. "Don't break him! I just spent a small fortune to buy him." The rope guy deferred to this new voice, which John suddenly realized was a woman's voice. "Oh, shit," he thought, "I've been bought by a woman. Now what the hell is going to happen next?"

John got back to his feet and they again moved forward. John noticed a DHD come into view and saw the guy with the rope enter a gate address. John was not able to see the exact symbols even though he tried. He struggled again to break free, but the combination of the drug made his muscles entirely uncooperative. The wormhole came to life and he was pulled forward into the vortex.

The other side of the wormhole was much warmer than where they had just been. On this planet the sun was much lower in the sky, with evening apparently not far off. "Jesus," John muttered, "I'm getting the gate equivalent of jet lag."

John tried to take in the vista around the gate but was pulled forward immediately. Their little party was met at the gate by another wagon pulled by the local beast of burden. John was bodily lifted and thrown into the back of the wagon, complaining loudly in the process. John tried to kick his legs, hoping to connect with one of his captors. He actually did manage to connect with something that felt like a person and for a moment felt like this was his opportunity to try to escape. However, apparently others before him had tried the same move so his captors were prepared. John suddenly felt something press against his side and felt a zap of electricity jolt through his body. "Jesus," he thought as he cringed from the electrical shock, "they're using a cattle prod on me."

The face of the woman came into view over him looking down at his face. "Now you listen here. You will not try that again. I used the lowest setting on this thing and I will not hesitate to turn it higher and use it again." John's blood ran cold when the woman added, "Let me tell you, you'll know and remember it if I touch this to your balls, and that's where I'm going if I have to use it again."

"Please don't do that," John replied very matter-of-factly, not really knowing if she cared about anything he had to say.

"Then behave yourself and don't give me any cause."

"Please tell me what happened and where I am? I just need to know that," John practically pleaded.

"Where you are doesn't matter. Where you came from doesn't matter. You're here and you'll remain here working for me. I paid a small fortune for you and I don't have that kind of money to throw around like some of those other buyers." Clearly the woman was upset with the way John had been bid up by some of the others at the market.

"Now lay there and shut up. We've got a long journey ahead of us. And remember, any more stupid stunts and you'll feel pain like you've never felt before. Trust me," she said in a most sinister voice. Another person reached in and secured John's rope to a hook in the side of the wagon, giving John very little mobility.

The woman moved, the wagon moved, and the next phase of this truly bizarre day was underway. John dropped his head back and wondered if his team members would ever be able to find him here, wherever here was.


	3. Travel

John's little trio rode in the bumpy wagon for hours. At some point he fell asleep thankfully, but his sleep was not restful or restorative. The road on which they traveled was not paved and was riddled with pot holes and other things that made the wagon constantly lurch and jerk and bump.

The sun went down but thankfully the temperature did not seem to drop much. John was still totally naked and seriously didn't want to get frost bite on his tender bits. They rode on silently for hours. At some point during the night the wagon stopped to rest the beast that pulled the wagon.

In the quiet of the night, John raised his head and asked, "Hey! I need to pee."

For awhile he heard nothing in response but finally the man reappeared and yanked John's leash to pull him out of the wagon. John expected that they would move off into the bushes but instead the man stopped where he stood and looked at John.

When John didn't make a move, the man said, "So? I thought you needed to pee?"

"Here!?" John asked, clearly confused.

"If you gotta go, do it now or wait until we get home."

Since his bladder felt quite full, John decided that this alternative was the best option. John had never previously been pee-shy but something about the weirdness of this situation was making it difficult for him. Once he finally started, though, he was grateful that he had overcome his momentary reluctance. He sighed in relief, finally finishing.

"Thank you," he said to the man, half-heartedly hoping to start a conversation. "You said something about 'not till we get home.' Where is that?"

The man looked at him and said, "Home. We're going home."

"Yea, but how much further is it?"

"No concern of yours," the man answered as he pushed John back into the wagon and secured him to a tie in the floor of the wagon.

"When do you serve dinner? And what's the movie on this flight? It better be good or I'm taking my business to another airline." The man looked at him utterly confused, so John tried again, "Can I have some food? I haven't eaten in a long time and I'm really hungry." John tried to look his most innocent and hungry, which wasn't hard since he was actually very hungry.

"Woman will feed you," the man replied and walked off, leaving John alone in the wagon in the dark night. Since he was not able to move about and was really tired after being drugged, paraded naked in front of hundreds of strangers, and then sold to some in-bred crazy woman, John was exhausted. The still of the night lulled him to sleep within minutes.

About a half hour later John woke abruptly when he felt something hard hit him. He jumped, as much as his restraints would allow, to see what was happening. The first thing he saw was the woman. She looked at him with clear disdain and said, "Eat."

John looked to see what had hit him, which was not easy in the dark. Using his hands he felt around and found what appeared to be a piece of hard bread of some sort.

"Thank you," he said, although the woman had walked off already.

Eating the bread substance wasn't easy but John did the best he could to gnaw off a piece and chew it somewhat. There was basically no taste to the bread-thing but at least it was something in his stomach.

A few minutes later John heard the sounds of his captors coming closer to the wagon. The back of the wagon was lowered and the man unhooked John from the hook to which he was secured. The rope around John's wrists was suddenly pulled and John found himself lying on the ground.

"Ow! That hurt."

John looked up to the sight of the woman with one hand on the cattle prod-like device she had used on him earlier. Her countenance was frozen in a look of pure condescension. "We're leaving. You walk now." Another rope was looped around his wrist restraints and attached to a hook on the wagon.

The man and the woman reseated themselves in the front of the wagon and John felt the wagon begin to move. He quickly got to his feet since if he had not he would have been dragged behind the wagon, and that didn't sound like a good idea.

John had always prided himself on his ability to talk to anyone anywhere about almost anything. He had learned that skill at an early age and it had served him well all these years. But his skills were not working this time, not that he had ever been kidnapped and sold before. He had tried repeatedly to engage the man and the woman in conversation in an attempt to find out anything about what was happening, but neither of them would talk beyond just basic information. Now he was more removed from his captors and conversation was almost impossible.

Walking along behind the wagon, John reflected on his circumstances. He knew his teammates would do everything in their power to find him, but he knew that each gate they passed through made the trail that much harder to follow. John knew that by now Rodney would have dragged Zelenka back to the gate where John had been kidnapped originally to pull all the data he could from the crystals to tell there what gate addresses had been entered recently. That task would take at least 30 minutes if all went well.

From there he knew they would go to that gate, look around and then hopefully repeat the process. But he knew that his trail would be very hard to follow from the market world, if they ever got that far. There were hundreds of people on the market world, probably with people coming and going all the time. Zelenka could pull the information from the gate but John didn't know how many others had used the gate since then. Each use would give his team another false lead that they would have to follow.

Unless of course Ronon went into the market and started asking questions. Ronon had a very persuasive way of asking people questions. John chuckled to himself, thinking of how persuasive one pissed-off Satedan could be when he was motivated. John could picture Ronon working his way throughout the market, asking every single person if they had seen John. He also knew that Teyla and Rodney would be circulating through the crowd showing John's picture to everyone, demanding to know if they had seen or heard of John.

John knew that if they had even an inkling that John had been there they would work the place relentlessly to get any information. And good luck to those they thought were lying. Picturing his friends working so hard to find him was a comfort. Picturing Ronon beating the crap out of someone on that market planet brought a smile to John's face and gave him the first positive thing to think about all day.

Usually John wouldn't wish Ronon's wrath on his worst enemy, but this time he had to rethink that philosophy. These people deserved whatever Ronon could dish out. Usually the picture of calm collectedness, John had in his mind moved to thinking about revenge. Sure he thought about escape and getting out of here, of getting back to Atlantis, but he also was imaging revenge.

With thoughts of escape and revenge, John walked onward. "Jesus," he thought, "where the fuck are we going?"


	4. Home

Slowly the hours passed and eventually John noticed that the sun must be about to rise because the sky showed signs of light at the horizon. For hours he had been trekking along behind the wagon without further rest stops.

The road was covered with little stones that hurt his feet when his mind wandered and he forgot to pay attention to the road surface. Once he stepped into one of the many ruts that covered the road on which they traveled and twisted his ankle. It happened so quickly he couldn't stop it from happening – he fell to the ground. He yelled but his captors didn't stop the wagon, dragging his naked body across the rutted, stony road. Somehow, and John wasn't entirely sure how, he managed to get back on his feet. He really had no alternative since the pace of the wagon had not changed one iota while he was on the ground.

His ankle hurt but he managed to plod onward, grimacing with each step. He had been on long hikes before during the early years of his military training. In fact, many of his missions in the Pegasus Galaxy required long hikes to get from the gate to whatever destination they had on that mission. So, of all the people he knew, John Sheppard considered himself to be in pretty good shape and up to the challenge of a long hike. Slowly, though, as they moved steadily onward, he realized that his usual mission hikes were different because they stopped periodically to rest, to check out their surrounds, to have some food and water, to relieve themselves. However, the wagon just moved steadily onward, hour after hour.

The muscles in John's legs were becoming exhausted from the non-stop, continuous march. At one point after who knew how many hours, fatigued beyond belief, thirsty beyond belief, John's mind wandered. He was no longer even paying much attention to his surroundings. The beasts that were pulling the wagon decided to relieve themselves as they walked. John missed this until it was too late when he stepped into the pile of warm droppings. He instantly refocused and realized what had happened. Earlier during their trek the animals had done the same thing but he avoided stepping in it. However, this time both feet sunk ankle deep into their deposit.

"Oh, Jesus, that feels gross!" He tried to shake the crap off his feet but had to remain moving or else be pulled to the ground again.

And the wagon moved on, relentlessly, constantly, without stop. A few hours later the wagon stopped. The man and woman stepped down from the wagon and watered and fed the animals. Absolutely exhausted, John simply fell to the ground and put his head down onto the ground. His complaining muscles were momentarily grateful for the brief break.

After a few moments of rest – he might have momentarily fallen asleep but he wasn't sure – he heard the man and woman rummaging in the back of the wagon. Turning his head enough to be able to see what they were doing, he noticed them eating something. He was hungry too but didn't have the energy to lift his head and ask for some food. He drifted off to sleep but was jolted awake sometime later when the woman delivered a solid kick with her pointed boots to his left hip. She didn't say a word but simply turned and walked back to the wagon, settling into her seat once again.

The wagon started to move. Though it was about the last thing he wanted to do, John somehow scampered back to his feet and prepared for more hiking. The ropes binding his hands together were so rough and secured so tightly that by this time the constant pulling of the wagon had made his wrists incredibly sore and chafed, almost raw in places. Each wrong move caused the ropes to dig deeper. Still, the wagon moved steadily onward. Hour after hour after relentless hour, the wagon moved onward.

John's mind drifted, always returning to his desire for water. He had been hiking along behind the wagon in the hot sun for nearly an entire day without much of a break. He was hot, he was tired, his ankle hurt, his wrists were gouged nearly raw, and he had absolutely no clue what was going to happen when the wagon reached its destination. But the wagon continued onward. He was so thirsty. But the wagon continued onward. He was sore everywhere. But the wagon continued onward.

John started to hear new sounds, sounds of other people and other wagons, with an occasional farm animal as well. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, the wagon stopped. John once again fell to the ground, grateful for the momentary break. His captors immediately jumped down from the wagon. The male of the duo grabbed his rope and started walking, dragging John across the ground until he managed to get back onto his feet.

John tried to look around a little but he was dead tired. He caught a glimpse of what looked like a small farm. He tried to look around some more but felt his leash tugged, pulling him forward. Despite being off the road, the ground was still covered with small, sharp rocks. Walking on the rocky ground hurt his already aching, bleeding bare feet. The guy on the other end of the rope showed no mercy, striking a firm pace across what seemed like a huge field across from the farm house.

The rocks gave way to a field of some dry, sharp leafy things that hurt his feet and now his legs in an entirely new way. It felt like he was being stabbed by a hundred knives every few steps.

"Hey, slow down," John asked. His captor showed no signs of hearing what John said and did not slow down one bit. John tried pulling back a bit on his leash, but his captor just pulled that much harder, almost unbalancing John and making him fall to the ground. He managed to keep his balance and tried to keep up the best he could. Trying to be positive about something in this nightmare, John decided to focus on the fact that at least there were no crowds of people to see him naked this time.

In the distance John could see some sort of metal structure with pylons and a huge crossbar running far off into the distance. It could be an irrigation device, but he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it looked solid and secure. He tried to study the structure as best he could while trying not to step on too many of the sharp leafy things while also steering clear of stones. His feet hurt from the abuse they had taken on this trek.

The day, which had started warm, had grown significantly warmer and was now just plain hot. The skies were clear, bright blue, with no clouds to break up the intensity of the sun's ray. From a combination of the sun, the multi-mile hike he had endured to get here, and the hike they were taking now, John was sweating and wanted nothing more than to take a dip in a pool of cool, refreshing water and then sit down under a shady tree for a long nap. However, there were no pools of any kind of water in sight, and certainly no trees to provide any shade.

As they reached the metal structure, whatever it was, they walked along a few hundred more yards before stopping. When his captor slowed to a stop, John leaned forward to catch his breath and let some of the sweat drop off his face to the ground. Much to his surprise, another man was already there and had escaped John's notice.

This other man was about John's height and age, maybe a few years younger, and was actually fairly good-looking, overall an attractive man in John's quick estimation. At the moment, though, all John saw was that he had something in his hands and was reaching out for John. Instinctively John stepped back until he could see what was happening.

His captor reacted immediately and pulled him to the ground. Instantly his captor was on top of him, holding him face down on the ground. John felt something on his neck but wasn't able to throw off his captor to see what was happening. He was so exhausted from the heat and the hike – he just didn't have enough fight left in him at the moment to resist.

Whatever it was, it felt like it was several inches tall. It felt like leather. It was wrapped around his neck securely but wasn't so tight that he couldn't breathe. John heard some clicks and then felt his captor's weight removed. He struggled to his feet and turned to face these two men. Much to his surprise, his captor reached forward with a knife and cut the cords that bound John's hands together. John welcomed the removal of the ropes and rubbed his wrists where the ropes had cut into his skin. He noticed that his wrists were bleeding in places and scabbed over in other places where they had clearly been bleeding.

Sweating and breathing hard, exhausted and thirsty, John stood there, naked in the middle of this field and faced his hosts. "All right, I think I've been more than patient. But my patience is running out. I want some answers and I want them now. What the fuck is going on here? Where am I? Why have I been brought here? And what the hell is this thing you just put on me?"

The new guy stood calmly before John, calmly looking John over from head to foot. A small smile appeared on his face, clearly pleased with what he saw. "You are a slave. You are nothing. My mother purchased you at market," he said simply. "You are here to work, not ask questions."

"Your mother?" John asked. "I asked some questions, and I want some answers. NOW."

Meeting John's stare for the first time, this new guy smiled and said, "You are number eight. This field is our most valuable crop. During the day you take that bucket." He pointed toward a bucket sitting on the ground nearby. "You use that pump." He again pointed to a spot near the bucket. "You fill the bucket and water the crops. This is dry season and the crops need constant tending or they die. If they die we lose money and we are not in business to lose money. Each night pugons roam through the fields eating some of our crop. Each bite they take costs us dearly. We've looked for where they're nesting but so far we haven't been able to find their nest. Until we do, each night you patrol the fields and drive them off when they come anywhere near."

Trying to take in all that was being explained to him, John was stupefied by what they expected him to do. "Let me get this straight. You want me to work day and night? When and where do I sleep? And how about some clothes while we're at it?"

Smiling guy continued to meet John's stare, his smile broadening a bit. "You have a nice body that should not be covered with clothing. I find you most attractive. Clothing would obscure your muscles and your incredible physique. After you've been trained, perhaps as a reward sometime I can bring you up to the house to keep me company."

"I am not somebody's whore!" John practically shouted. "You people have made a really, really bad mistake. I am Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Air Force. I am the military commander of the Ancient outpost of Atlantis. My people will not stop until they find me. And all I can say is God you when they find me. They will not show any mercy. Release me now and get me back to the Stargate and you still have a chance. Hold me and you are signing your own death sentence."

"You are a slave on my mother's farm. You are eight. Your past doesn't exist. You are number eight."

They two men started to walk away. John started to follow behind them but found that whatever they had put around his neck was attached to a chain that ran to the metal structure. "Oh, shit," he suddenly realized. "They've put a fucking collar on me!" His hands went to his neck and tried to pull off the leather collar.

His captors stopped, smiling man turned back, and said, "And don't try to remove your collar. It is locked in place and I have the key. You will only hurt yourself if you try. Believe me, others have tried before you and none have ever succeeded. Also, there is a device on your collar that will keep you where you belong. Should you somehow get free and try to escape, your collar will give you an electrical shock if you wander beyond the boundaries of this farm. Going too far will deliver a jolt that will kill you, so I advise against trying to escape."

With that they turned and continued walking away. John followed a bit, partly to see how much chain they had given him. He stopped and shouted at his retreating captors, "Hey, what about food? I've got to eat! I haven't had food in a long time and I need to eat. You can't just chain me up out here in this goddamned field and leave me here. I'll die out here in this heat! What about shelter?"

Without stopping his captor shouted back at him, "You had best get to work watering the crops. In this sun they dry out quickly. If those crops die I will not be happy, and if I'm not happy then you will not be happy."

"I'm profoundly not happy, you asshole! Come back here!" John shouted at the retreating men.

"Fuck!" John said, mostly to himself since he was now alone. Alone, naked, and chained to some goddamned post in the middle of goddamned nowhere, with no food, no water, no shelter – and no clothes! "How the hell am I going to get out of this one? Rodney, you better pull some brilliant rescue out of your ass quick on this one, and get me the hell out of here."

Alone now and frustrated beyond words, John decided he had to test his limits and see how far he could go. He was chained up like some dog in the backyard which rankled him to no end. Muttering to himself, "I'm chained up like some damned animal."

John was surprised to find that he could move a good distance. The chain was surprisingly long but also very heavy and clearly not something that could be easily broken. He quickly realized, however, that he had to be careful where he pulled the chain because it was all too easy to break whatever the hell these plants were supposed to be by dragging the chain across them.

Stalking back toward the tower that secured his chain, John checked out how securely the chain was attached. He quickly realized that the chain was in something like concrete and was solid – there was no way he was going to simply pull the chain lose.

Trying to find some shade, John moved a short ways into the field toward where the crop was taller and provided at least some shade from the morning sun. "If the lack of food doesn't kill me, this heat surely will," he thought.

John sat down on the ground in the shade and cursed whoever was listening about his current situation. "This is bad. This is so bad," he muttered. "Bad, bad, bad."

He sat on the ground for probably 20 minutes – again, no watch, so telling time was impossible. He could make a rough approximation from watching the sun, but then it occurred to him that maybe this planet rotated around its sun faster or slower than Earth or Atlantis.

He cursed the big guys who had stripped him on that stage for taking his watch – not to mention his dignity. Thinking back to the stage, John was both angry and embarrassed. He had been treated like a piece of meat, like a prize bull presented to the crowd. The auctioneer had actually slapped his stomach like he would slap the side of a cow. And he had grabbed John's balls – that had hurt – the guy was definitely not gentle. At the memory, John's right hand went down to gently stroke his still tender nuts.

For the first time John looked more carefully at the crop he was supposed to tend. While it wasn't exactly like anything he had seen on Earth, he decided that it was closer to corn than anything else, so it made sense to call it "corn" for now until he had a better term. The stalks grew fairly tall. The field had stalks with a variety of heights. As they matured, they seemed to sprout some growth toward the top that swelled into something like ears of corn.

Overwhelmed with anger, John was tempted to reach out and pull down some of the stalks, throw them, or stomp on them. But then realizing once again that he had no shoes, he thought better of that idea. John was notoriously a man of even disposition. He was slow to anger – but he certainly could get mad when provoked, it just took more to provoke him than it did for most people. One thing about John that everyone on Atlantis appreciated was his fairness and his calm, unflappable attitude. He treated all of the men under him fairly and equitably, never, never, never striking out in anger, verbally or otherwise. In his many years in the Air Force John had witnessed all types of behavior from commanding officers. Some were memorable for being good, but unfortunately there were also memories of some really bad examples of human behavior. John had spent his entire career trying to emulate the good ones and never, ever stray into the behavior of the bad ones. For the most part he had succeeded.

But as he sat on the dirt, naked, collared and chained, John was anything but calm. He was mad. Mad as hell. He wanted to strike out at something, anything, to take out his frustration and his anger. Most of all he wanted to get the hell out of here, wherever here was. These people had no business kidnapping and buying and selling people, human beings. That was just barbaric and went against everything in John's character. He had worked tirelessly since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy to free people from their captivity – captivity to the terror of the Wraith, captivity to other bad circumstances.

He had worked to kill Wraith to free people from the fear of culling. He had worked to better lives by bringing countless people to Atlantis and then relocating them to safer worlds. He had worked especially hard to help the Athosians, Teyla's people. But this, this just went against everything in his very being.

John leaned his head forward and covered his face with his hands. In addition to being a man of calm, even temper, John was not especially an emotional man. But this, this mess, was frustrating him beyond belief. For the first time in years he felt almost on the verge of tears. Not tears due to loss, but tears of frustration and depression. Reaching down far within his soul, though, John pulled himself together, raised his head, and said, "No. These people are not going to win. I will fight this. They will not beat me. I am going to get out of this mess, somehow."

He then spent the next hour walking around the field, testing the length of his chain and checking out everything in his "territory." He was hoping to find some form of shelter that his captors had simply failed to tell him about, but unfortunately he found none. He also hoped to find something he could use to cut this damned collar off his neck, or better yet, something he could use as a weapon. Again he failed.

About an hour after he started, John found another semi-shady spot under the corn-like stuff and sat back down on the ground. The heat of the morning had increased. It was downright roasting now. Sweat was dripping off John's forehead, his back, his chest, and well, everywhere one normally sweats in the heat.

Finally realizing that he was losing a lot of liquid, John decided to check out the water supply. His captor had pointed out a pump and a bucket, so John worked his way to the old-fashioned handle pump. Placing the bucket under the faucet, John tried working the pump handle. It took a few pumps but John finally got water to flow. At first the water was a little cloudy so he threw that away. After about six pumps the water flowed clear. Sticking his finger in the water flowing from the pump head it felt cool, or at least cooler than he did at the moment. When his bucket was full he looked around for something to use as a cup, but of course there was nothing. Knelling down to the bucket, John leaned forward and used his hands to scoop some of the water to his lips.

His process was inefficient, but he was able to get something to drink and it felt good. Deciding that he should not drink too much too quickly, John took the bucket of water and poured the rest over his head so that it could wash over his hot body.

"Oh, yes," he muttered. He worked the pump some more, got another bucket of water and again poured the water over his body. "That feels goooood!" Throwing the bucket down near the pump, John water back to his semi-shady spot and again sat down on the ground. He didn't know what to do. He had checked his surroundings, looked for weapons, checked how solid his bonds were. He had failed at all of these so he had to think of a next step, something new to try. John laid down on his back, put his hands on his face again, and said, "Think, Sheppard, think. They has got to be something you can do."

As he laid still try to come up with a new tactic, he slowly drifted off to sleep, the accumulated fear, anxiety, and activity of the day catching up with him. Fatigue from any of these causes could be overwhelming, especially when all three sources were combined.


	5. Working for the Man

John woke with a start sometime later when he felt something strike his foot. "Jesus," he said, startled. Trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes and get his brain back into action, John saw an old woman – a really old woman – standing near his feet. He was about to ask her who she was when she said, "You best be getting to work, boy, or they beat you!"

"Huh?" John said, still somewhat foggy from his sleep and lack of food and dehydration.

"I said, get to work, boy! Or else they beat you bad!"

"Who are you?" he asked.

"One," she answered with a proud look on her face.

"One?"

"I'm the first. I was here before anyone else. I'm number one!" she answered with obvious pride.

"Ok," John didn't know quite what to say. "But what's your name?"

"You deaf, boy? I said I One!"

"You don't have another name? A real name? Like Elizabeth, or Ellen, or Katie, or something like that?"

Shaking her head in obvious frustration, the old woman said, "I'm One, boy! You slow?"

"I guess I am because I don't know what any of this means."

"Don't matter. You best get your butt in motion and get to work. These plants don't water theyselves. Plants die and Master not be happy. They beat you senseless."

"I don't want to be beaten," John said.

Nodding approvingly the old woman, said, "Good, then get de bucket and get to work. Fast. These plants don't like this heat. They die, or Master get a smaller crop than he wants, and you won't be able to walk without pain for weeks."

Stalking away the woman grabbed the bucket and threw it at John. He managed to catch it, thinking the old woman had some moves in her yet. John stood up, suddenly remembering he was still naked. He held the bucket in front of himself in an attempt to preserve at least a shred of his dignity. He walked with the old woman to the pump and watched her pump some water. "See? You pump, fill bucket, and pour on plants. Come on, boy! Move or they beat you bad!" She was obviously very concerned about keeping John from physical trauma, which pleased him, he supposed.

As instructed, John filled a bucket, carried it to a nearby plant under the watchful eye of the old woman, and poured the water around the base of the plant. The water seemed to vanish into the ground like a sponge. This soil wasn't very good was what they were trying to do. The soil needed something to retain some of the water and slowly release it to the plant roots. But of course that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

"Good. Now do more! Quick. Master be coming to check on you in a while."

John cut her off in mid-sentence, "Yeah, yeah, I know, he beat me."

"Yes! He beat you bad … and more, boy." A look of fear crossed her face and she added, "You don't want that boy, believe me." Her hand reached out to grab John's hand and she looking pleadingly into his eyes. John easily sensed her seriousness but refused to let his mind go to whatever else they could do to him. He knew it couldn't be fun, whatever it was.

"Quick! More!" the old woman instructed. "You got a lot of work to do before Master comes out here." She stood supervising as John followed her instructions and watered several more plants.

"How do I get some food?" he asked. "I haven't had any food in a long time and I'm really, really hungry."

The old woman reached into one of the pockets on her long dress and pulled out a couple of roundish, pinkish things that she tossed to John. "Here. Eat this," she instructed.

"What is it?" he asked, turning it around in his hands. "Looks something like an apple."

"It food. Eat!" The old woman reached into her pockets and pulled out a hunk of what looked like bread and something that looked like cheese, handing both to John.

"Thank you!" he responded. "I was really, really hungry." He ate some of the bread and cheese. The bread was good, but the cheese was very bitter and not to his liking. Nonetheless, it was sustenance.

"I go now. You water. And chase the beasts at night."

Looking up from his feast, John asked, " So, tell me about these beasts that come around at night. What am I looking for, anyway? How will I know it when I see one?"

With a look one who was frustrated would give to a small child who asked a stupid question, the woman simply said, "You'll see the damned things scurrying around on the ground. Just kill 'em."

"How?" John asked.

"You throw somethin' at 'em, or catch up and strangle 'em. Them rodents eat everything we work for."

John guessed from her words that she was describing some kind of rat or squirrel, or something on that order. "Great," he said, "I'm out here in a goddamned field with no shoes, no clothes, no weapons – and now it turns out I'm surrounded by goddamned rodents!" Looking at the old woman, he asked, "How can I get some clothes? Something to wear? A hat?"

"You don't get none. Master want you naked. He likes the way you look. He watch you work. He wants to see your body as you work. And if he want, he fuck you. You don't get clothes."

John's head swam with all of the information he had acquired from the old woman. She stalked off through the fields, probably to her next slave feeding. He shouted after her, "Hey! When do I get more food," but the woman didn't answer him. "Great," he said, "just great."

Sitting on the ground in the best shade he could find from the sweltering sun, John finished his bread and cheese and then took a bite of the apple-thing. "Hum," he said, "tastes sweet." The fruit had the skin of an apple, just a uniformly pink color, but the flesh of something like a peach and pear combined. Whatever it was, the taste was good. Deciding that he should keep a little something for later, since he didn't know when anyone would be back by to offer him more food, John set the other piece of fruit on the ground next to the pump.

Sighing in frustration, John stood by the pump, not really sure what to do. He definitely did not want to be beaten. Whatever they had in mind, he was sure that it would not be a fair fight. They would probably tie him down before beating the crap out of him. He definitely did not want such a one-sided fight.

He decided that the best course of action would be to do as told for a little while, thinking while he worked. He worked the pump, filled his bucket and started on a row of the grain, watering the plants. Returning he repeated the process. Slowly he worked his way through that row as far as his chain would allow.

It was mindless work which gave John lots of time to think. He wondered how far Zelenka had gotten them in their tracing back his route through the gates. Surely they must be at the market planet by now. He smiled at the thought of Ronon and Teyla kicking some serious ass. He hoped that one of them was that bastard auctioneer. If John couldn't have the pleasure of killing the bastard, he hoped Ronon made him suffer.

Work, as mindless and frustrating as it was, helped John to pass the time. The hottest part of the day slowed him down a bit since he had to stop and rest periodically. The heat was really brutal. He tried to drink lots of water and keep himself hydrated. The last thing he needed was to keel over from dehydration before his team rescued him.

The air was still which made the heat all that much more fierce. As he wiped some more sweat from his forehead he wondered if this place ever got a breeze to help make it more bearable. Probably not, he decided, since he was obviously in Hell's waiting room.

After a couple of hours, John had watered hundreds of the corn-like plants. Sweat was pouring from his body so he paused once again to pour some of the water over his head in an attempt to cool off a little. He stopped and stood still with his eyes closed after a second bucket, savoring the brief coolness that he felt as the water evaporated from his hot skin.

"Very nice."

John jumped, startled. He dropped his bucket as his eyes flew open and he turned to the direction of the voice. John found the man who had put the collar on his neck. He was dressed as before but had a big hat on his head to keep the sun from his head and face. John envied the man his hat but was determined to not show his true feeling.

"Can I help you?" he asked snidely.

"You will, soon."

"Huh?"

"You look very nice standing there with the water sluicing over your body, droplets forming on your pert nipples and on the head of your dick." He smiled a lecherous smile and licked his lips as he looked at John's dick.

Not knowing what to say, John simply responded, "No, thank you."

The man laughed a hearty laugh, shaking his head in clear pleasure.

"Get back to work," he ordered. "You've got a lot to do yet."

"Can I get a hat like yours?" John asked. "This sun is brutal."

"No clothing. I want you naked so I can appreciate our newest acquisition."

John sneered at the man.

"Oh, yes, this one has spirit." After a pause and a stare, he added, "I like breaking the ones with spirit."

Not liking the direction this conversation was taking, John turned away and went back to the pump. He heard the man whistle when John turned his back. "Nice ass!" he heard.

Deciding to ignore the man he returned to the pump, filled another bucket and continued with his work. The man remained, watching him for a few minutes before disappearing as quietly as he had arrived. John scolded himself for letting the man sneak up on him that way. "Got to pay more attention, Sheppard," he ordered himself. "You're getting lazy. He never should have surprised you."

Angry at his failure, John sloshed water as he hauled another bucket to the next row. Fortunately, as the sun started to set later in the afternoon, the blasting heat started to diminish, at least by a few degrees. As John had worked through the afternoon he had tried to remain vigilant in case anyone else came around so that he would not be surprised again.

The man who had put the collar on him – not to mention the moves – was not a big guy. He was approximately the same height and weight as Sheppard. John thought that he could easily take the guy, beating the crap out of him without too much effort. If nothing else, he could wrap his chain around the guy's neck and strangle the prick. His anger motivated him to keep going.

As he worked in the slightly cooler air he realized that perhaps it would be easier to rest during the heat of the day and haul water in the cooler evening and early morning. "Stop it, Sheppard," he said aloud. "Don't make plans to be here very long. Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla will be here before long and get you the hell out of this mess!" He hated the fact that he was already starting to think about this in terms of tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. The only way he was going to survive this ordeal was by simply focusing on now and forgetting about tomorrow.

The sun set and the skies darkened throughout the evening. Before lone John realized that he couldn't see very well anymore because the light was so limited. He made his way back to the pump, deciding that it was a good time to eat his second apply-thingy. He felt around on the ground for where he had laid the fruit but was unable to find it. "Damn," he muttered. "I know it was right here."

He heard something scurry not far away from him and surmised that one of these creatures he was supposed to guard again must have found the fruit and carried it away. "Great," he said, "just great. No more food."

Not sure what these creatures were, John was hesitant to sit down on the ground. Finally he was so tired that he had no alternative. It was sit down or fall down. He had heard nothing further moving nearby which gave him some small comfort. Feeling absolutely exhausted from his day of hard work and lack of food, he laid down and almost immediately was asleep.


	6. Discipline

The unexpected kick caught John completed off guard. "Wake up! Get up, you lazy son-of-a-bitch! Get up!"

Barely awake, John felt a zap against his leg, recognizing the damned cattle prod device all too readily. "Damn! That hurts!" he yelled.

"You're going to hurt a lot more. Now move! The creatures are overrunning your part of the field. Get to work! Now!"

Not knowing what else to do, and definitely wanting to avoid a repeat of the cattle prod shock device, John started moving as quickly as he could. He heard the man following behind. "No! No! You dumb piece of shit! They're over there" he said, pointing to his left.

John changed directions and headed that way but suddenly found himself laying flat on his back on the ground. The man had grabbed John's chain and given it a strong pull, yanking John backgrounds onto the ground. John had not landed well since it happened so fast. He layed still for a moment. "Ow. That hurts." He wanted to say more but immediately the man was scolding him again.

"Don't pull your chain over the crops! You'll destroy them! Go back down the row and then head over there. Come on! Get up! Now! Do I have to tell you how to take a piss? Are you that ignorant? MOVE!" He zapped John again with the electric prod.

John slowly climbed back to his feet, having had just about enough of this crazy planet and his kidnappers. He started to head toward the man but stopped when he saw the pain device. "Try it and you'll regret it!" the man stated. "Keep acting so stupid and making me lose more money and I'll shove it up your ass and then turn it on!"

Frustrated, John simply said, "Try." Immediately he regretted the statement and wished he had not said anything. John was trained in many forms of combat but he had never trained to fight someone in the middle of a field while naked and a big chain running off a collar around your neck. The man moved lightning fast and before John knew what was happening he felt the all-too familiar electrical shock, this time focused on his stomach. "Damn! That hurts!" He jumped back instinctively when he was shocked but somehow managed to trip and fall backwards.

The man came at him again and once again the electrical device touched John's skin. He felt his back arching as the pain spread throughout his body. The man held the device in place for what felt like forever, making John writhe in agony. The device was finally removed and John collapsed to the ground trying to breathe. The pain washed over his body, leaving him feeling physically drained. Low-grade electrocution took a lot out of a person. Before he had even opened his eyes John was shocked again. As before, the wand seemed to remain in contact with his skin for an eternity before finally ending. Again it was repeated and this time John thankfully lost consciousness.

When he came back to the land of the living, John found himself in a worse situation than before. Before he had opened his eyes, he had realized that his hands and feet were bound. He was somehow standing upright but his arms were pulled diagonally upwards and his legs were pulled diagonally downwards. As his eyes opened and he focused, John saw that he was spread-eagled in some kind of heavy wooden frame. There was no way he was going to be able to pull lose from this. John was now scared. He rarely felt overwhelming terror, but that was what struck him as he assessed his current situation.

Taking in more of his surroundings, John realized that he was outside. He wasn't sure why, but he would have expected to be inside when trussed up like this. Looking around to try to learn more John saw several men coming and going carrying buckets and other things. He realized that he must be in the yard near the farm house he had seen the previous day. The men passing by seemed to pay no attention to John, as if seeing a spread-eagled naked man was an everyday occurrence.

Knowing that it was useless, John tried anyway to pull lose, to work a hand or a leg free, but to no avail. He was close to panic when he saw the man step into his sight. The man walked up to John, closer than John would have liked, and stood inches from John. A sneer formed on his face. "You need to be taught a lesson. You need to learn your place. And you need to learn to do what you're told."

His eyes ran over John's body. His hands reached out and cupped John's testicles, stroking his balls with one hand while his other hand went to John's penis. He stroked gently, which seemed completely contrary to what John had expected.

"Usually I insist someone buy me a drink before I let them do that," John offered in an attempt to regain some control.

The man's right hand gripped John's balls and squeezed viciously. John cringed and cried out in pain. The man continued to hold John's nuts in his vice-like grip. Tears came to John's eyes. The pain continued. Finally he screamed, "Please stop!"

The grip loosened as tears flowed down John's cheeks. The man's hand remained on John's testicles with his other hand wrapped around John's dick.

"Now there, see, that is what I mean. You need to learn your place. You are here at my pleasure – and for my pleasure. Do you understand that?" He gave a slight squeeze to John's nuts once again.

"Yes, please don't do that again. Hurts."

"I know it hurts. I meant it to hurt." He released John's nuts and brought his hand up to John's chest, rubbing John's pointy nipple gently. "See. I can cause you great pain when you misbehave. And at the same time I can give great pleasure when you behave. Now, which one do you prefer?" His hand dropped back to John's nuts and squeezed, and then both hands rose to gently stroke John's nipples.

"Please, don't hurt me!" John whimpered, wanting desperately to pull away from the man but completely unable to do so.

"Good. Correct answer." The man continued to stroke John's nipples for a few more seconds before dropping his hands to run them over John's washboard abs. His hands then wrapped around behind John as he stepped still closer and rubbed his hands over John's ass checks. "Nice ass. This ass should bring you great pleasure, not pain. Do you want more pain? Or do you want pleasure?"

"No pain, please," John whimpered, still feeling pain radiate out from his testicles.

"Do you want pleasure? Say it!"

Reluctantly, John said, "Yes."

"Say it!" the man gruffly ordered again.

"I want pleasure, not pain."

"Very good. You're learning." The man gave John's ass a squeeze and a slap before stepping back a few inches from John's face. "You really are a very attractive man, you know. I would hate to see your body scarred and disfigured from being whipped."

The man walked slowly around the frame in which John was imprisoned, appraising John's body. His hands reached out and ran over John's shoulders and back, once again ending up on John's ass, kneading the checks and squeezing. He then walked back around to stand in front of John and stepped forward to wrap John in a hug. The man whispered in John's ear, "I want to give you pleasure, not pain, but you must behave. You must learn that I own you and control you and control what you do. You decide nothing. You are mine to do with as I wish. Soon you will receive twenty strikes with the belt to punish you for your behavior. First, however, before the belt reddens you back and ass, I'm going to give us both some pleasure and fuck that pretty little ass of yours."

John whimpered, "Please, no! I'll do what you ask" he pleaded.

The man was behind him now when he leaned in close to John's ear and said, "I know you will."

John felt hands on his ass again, this time prying his checks apart and rubbing his hole. He didn't want this. Sure, he had done it before, but only consensually, and this was profoundly, definitely not consensual.

John felt fingers stroking across his butt hole. The hands left his body for a brief moment and then returned to spread him open once again. This time a slippery finger caressed his butt hole before slipping inside. John knew he needed to relax the muscle so he tried to focus all of his energy on relaxing as much as he could. The finger slipped deeper inside of him, bringing a gasp to John as the finger stroked across his prostate.

John's dick gave an involuntary stretch as it instinctively reacted to the move. The finger was pulled back and left John's body momentary before stroking across and then slipping inside once again. The finger slowly pulled out and then pushed back over and over again. John felt the man's other hand reach around and grab John's dick which had lengthened a little, despite his fear. The fingers wrapped around the dick, slowly stroking it, encouraging a full erection. The fingers continued to work his ass, surprisingly gentle, while the other hand worked his dick.

When John's dick was fully erect, standing tall and proud, he felt a second finger slip inside his ass. He winced briefly as his butt stretched to accommodate the extra width of the second finger. The two fingers slowly worked up inside John, held in place for a moment, flexed a bit, and then pulled back. The move was repeated with the man stroking John's erection. John felt something slippery on the man's hand which made his dick feel very good. John closed his eyes and dropped his head back a little, reluctantly feeling pleasure at this man's hands.

Time lost meaning for a few moments while John was stroked inside and out, felling intense pleasure. John felt his balls start to pull upwards toward his body as he felt his climax approaching. The man apparently knew what was coming because suddenly the stroking stopped and his hand left John's dick. The two fingers in his as were withdrawn and John whimpered unintelligible words.

The hand returned to his penis and the fingers returned to his ass, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from John's lips. The hand on his dick stroked once and then squeezed and held still. The hand wrapped itself around the base of John's dick momentarily before slowly tracing one finger from the base to the tip of John's erect dickhead. The finger ran around the head of John's nearly pulsing dick. John moaned in pleasure, reluctant but unable to stop the sound. The two fingers in his ass stroked slowly and gently, stretching him wide open.

The fingers were withdrawn and John felt an erection slap his ass. The dick was reasonable sized so at least John would not suffer the pain of some donkey-dicked animal fucking his ass. The erection slapped John's ass again and then was pressed toward John's asshole. With minimal effort the erection slipped inside of John and slowly eased completely inside John's ass. Once fully inserted, the man stood still buried balls deep inside John's body. His hand slowly resumed stroking John's erection, gently urging his climax to reappear. Slow strokes, gentle moans from John. The dick in his ass slowly withdrew and then slowly slipped back inside completely. Pause. Withdrawal. Stroke. Push. Stroke. Pull. Stroke. The hand left his dick and gently cupped his balls, gently massaging the sack.

Slowly the hand returned to grasp the base of John's erection. Without stroking, the man withdrew and then reinserted his own erection into John. Holding John's penis, the man slowly increased the speed of his fucking. Pulling. Pushing. Pulling. Pushing. Withdrawal. Insertion. An occasional stroke to his penis brought John close to climax but frustratingly not quite there. The man knew how to fuck, that was for sure. John hadn't been with a man for quite a while, but he couldn't remember sex feeling quite this good – despite being trussed up and held prisoner.

By now the pace had picked up and the man was more forcefully fucking John's ass. His vigor continued along with an occasion stroke for John's dick. The man knew what he was doing, bringing John just within sight of the edge but never letting him slip over that edge.

"Oh, God," John whimpered. Their pace intensified with the man occasionally pulled out completed before slamming his erection back into John's wide-open ass. As his own climax approached he started absolutely jack-hammering John's ass while stroking John's dick. John heard the man gasp which he assumed meant that the man was cumming inside him. Almost simultaneously John felt his own orgasm strike. Seeming to start somewhere in his toes and work upward, John's dick shot off. John shuddered as wave after wave of pleasure washed over his body. John couldn't remember having such an intense orgasm in years. The waves eventually subsided, leaving John wiped out from the intensity of the experience. The man held his still hard penis fully inside John's ass. He leaned his head on John's shoulder and whispered, "Was that good?"

"Yes," John whispered in answer.

"Wouldn't you like to have that experience anytime rather than pain?" To make his point the man's hands dropped back to John's testicles and gently grasped them in his hand. Involuntarily, John winced.

"Please don't hurt me!" John asked.

The hand moved away from John's nuts and moved to John's chest, gently rubbing over his nipples once again.

"So, pleasure or pain?"

"Pleasure, please. No pain."

"Good."

The erection in his ass was subsiding, gently slipping out. John couldn't believe he almost missed the feel of the dick in his ass.

The lips reappeared near his ear, softly kissing the ear before whispering, "You be a good boy and do your job. You do what you're told and I'll give you pleasure every day. Agreed?"

John was silent for a moment but saw no choice. He whispered, "Agreed."

The man stepped back a step and then added. "You were still very bad last night and your actions cost me greatly. You still need to be punished for your inexcusable performance in the field." He paused, stepping around to stand in front of John once again, "But I'll cut your punishment in half. You will receive only ten strokes with the belt instead of twenty. You should consider yourself very, very fortunate since I've never done such a thing before."

The man stepped back a few more steps, allowing John to see that he was as naked as John was. John tried to appraise his body quickly, liking what he saw. He gasped and winced when he felt a sharp slap on his back. John had not expected the beating to begin so suddenly. He felt a second strike on his back, this time in a slightly different location. He again gasped in pain. A third whack hit him, followed quickly by a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. The eighth stroke landed on his ass, causing John to try to jump. The ninth stroke was hard, landing again on his ass. There was a pause before the tenth stroke. John waited, wanting this experience over. He looked up and saw the man watching John intensely. The man nodded and John felt the final stroke slam into him with a greater intensity than any of the earlier strokes.

John felt the muscles in his legs give out and felt the bonds holding his wrists bear the full weight of his body. The bonds dug into his wrists but John was momentarily unable to make his legs work to support his body.

The man stepped forward once again and wrapped his arms around John from the front, whispering in John's ear, "Eight, you are a welcome addition to our farm." His hand slapped John's ass as he stepped away out of John's sight.

John hung in the frame still spread-eagled, not knowing what was next. The man returned to his vision, now dressed and with his hat back in place. The man nodded to some unseen colleague who stepped forward and freed the bonds of John's legs and then his arms. With his muscles held in one position for such a long period of time, John found that he was unable to stand when he first was released.

He tried again to rise to his feet but it took four attempts before he rose unsteadily to his feet. A leash of some sort was reattached to his collar and the man lead John, stumbling at first, back across the farm yard and into the field. By the time they had returned to John's previous captivity, John's legs were once again working as they should. The leash was removed and the chain was reattached to his collar. The man left without a word, leaving John once again alone, naked, and chained in this strange field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highly explicit.


	7. Slavery

Feeling stiff and sore from the cattle prod, the fucking, the imprisonment, and the beating, John slowly moved to retrieve his bucket and resume his work. He had no idea what time it was and was mostly unaware of the heat of the day. He moved through the remainder of the day by rote.

At some point the old woman reappeared and gave him some more of the bread, cheese and fruit. He thanked her and she was on her way without a word. John ate his food hungrily. He did not like having just one meal a day, especially when that meal did not fill him up enough. But it seemed to be what it was so he had no choice.

Slowly becoming aware of the heat, John pumped water and poured that water over the plants in his area. As near as he could tell every plant had been watered by the end of the afternoon. John celebrated by pouring a bucket of water over his head. Never had such a simple experience felt so wonderful. He followed that with another bucket of water, and then a third. The bliss of the experience nearly overwhelmed him.

He slowly eased away from the pump to find a patch of dirt in which to rest. He laid down carefully since his back was sore from the beating earlier. He was finally able to lay on his side with his head rested on a pile of dirt. His eyes closed and he was asleep almost immediately.

When John woke the sun was down but a moon had risen. Last night John had not noticed the moon, having slept through the time when it must have been up. Stretching a bit, John sat up, looked around, and said, "Well, this place doesn't look any different."

Rising to his feet John started walking around his field, going from one row to another, checking for the night creatures that had caused his beating earlier in the day. John did not hear any scurrying sounds like he had the previous night, but he continued to wander around checking. The chain was a royal pain in the ass. Despite two days of this routine he still did not find it any easier to navigate. The only thing he could say was that at least at night the chain did not get so hot as it did during the day with the sun beating down.

With nothing else to do, John continued slowly making his way around. Sometime during the middle of the night – John didn't know when since he still didn't know how long the night or day were on this planet – John turned around on one of his patrols and nearly jumped out of his skin. Standing in front of him was the man who had fucked him and had him beaten earlier in the day.

"How do you do that?" John asked in exasperation. "Usually I know when someone is nearby."

"I know these fields better than anyone. I know how to move about without making a sound."

"Yes, you do," John readily agreed.

"I'm pleased to see that you're up and about, doing your job. I would hate to have to order another beating – or worse."

The man let that comment hang in the air without further comment. He simply stared at John. Usually John was a confident man, a man of assured skills, confident in his abilities. But this was new territory for him. He did not like losing control but clearly he was not in control of this situation and had decided that it would be the easiest course of action to simply follow orders as much as possible.

Silence stretched on. John finally decided to change the subject by asking a question. "So, what should I call you?" he asked.

"Master."

"Master? That's an unusual name. Not something like Jim, or Pete?"

"I am your Master. That is all you need to know. I control your entire universe."

"Yes, sir," John replied with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"And I demand respect from those I own. You will respect me, do you understand?"

Not wanting to pick a fight he could not win, John dropped his eyes to the ground, took a deep breath, and neutrally responded, "Yes, sir." No hint of opinion or disrespect could be detected in his response.

"Good."

"As a show of your respect for me, you need to learn something. Kneel before me and repeat after me: 'I am a slave.'"

Reluctantly John knelt in the dirt and repeated the words, "I am a slave."

"You are my Master."

"You are my Master."

"I live to serve and obey my Master."

"I live to serve and obey my Master."

"I own nothing."

"I own nothing."

"I have a right to nothing."

"I have a right to nothing."

"I control nothing."

"I control nothing."

"I am nothing."

"I am nothing."

"Everything comes from the Master and by his will."

"Everything comes from the Master and by his will."

"What makes me happy is to obey."

"What makes me happy is to obey."

"What fulfills me is to follow his every command."

Eyes still cast downward, John repeated, "What fulfills me is to follow his every command."

"Very good. Learn those words and then whenever you are in my presence you will kneel and repeat those words back to me." He ran through the words line by line a couple more times to help John memorize the words.

The Master stood staring a few more seconds. John decided to try his luck at getting some food since he was seriously hungry. "Do you think I could get some food? I'm getting really, really hungry out here working all day and all night." Casting his eyes downward again in deference to the man, John said, "Please."

The Master silently considered the request for a moment before responding. "The proper way to ask me that question is, 'Master, may I have some more food?'"

Still kneeling in the dirt, and realizing that his humiliation was complete, John spoke the words aloud, "Master, may I have some more food?"

The Master stood silently for a few moments but then responded, "I'll see."

As quietly as he had arrived, the Master turned and was gone. John considered the interaction as he rose and resumed dragging his chain on his row by row patrol. He never did see or hear anything unusual during the rest of the night. On reflection, John considered that perhaps the sound of the chain and him constantly rustling the tall grain stalks had scared away any animals that wandered near. Whatever had caused the quiet night, John was simply grateful. He still didn't know what these mysterious creatures were or looked like, and was not necessarily eager to find out anytime soon.

With the first light of a new day appearing in the sky, John gave up his animal patrol and returned to the pump to grab his bucket and start his daytime assignment. He filled bucket after bucket, dutifully hauling them out into the field and watering the plants. He could almost swear that these things were growing taller every day but assumed he had simply not paid attention the previous day.

As the sun was rising in the sky, John was surprised to see the old woman shuffle slowly and painfully toward him. She held in her hands a cloth bag which she handed to him. Without speaking a word she turned and moved equally slowly back the way she had come. John couldn't really tell how old she was, but the poor thing looked ancient, easily in her 80's if not more. At an age when she should be retired with someone watching over her, the old woman was still trudging through the fields plus who knew what else each day.

As she disappeared from sight, John remembered the bag she had handed to him. Opening the bag, John was ecstatic to find a full loaf of the bread plus at least a half dozen of the fruit he liked. There was also a big hunk of a new type of cheese, different than the one he had received each day so far.

Finding a shady spot, John turned his bucket upside down, sat down on the bucket and started wolfing down some of the food. It was a veritable feast for a man who had spent much of his time hungry in the last many days. He ate two of the apple-things, savoring the taste and then licking his hand and arm where the juice had trickled down his arm.

Remembering the loss of his spare fruit thing the first night, John decided not to repeat his mistake. His put four of the fruit things and some of the cheese and bread back into the bag and tried to secure it inside the big leaves of some of the taller stalks in his field. When he felt he had made it as secure as possible, John picked up his bucket and returned to work. This day he decided to sleep through the hottest part of the day and work when the sun wasn't blasting so much. A couple of hours after his feast, John had one more of the apple things and then sat down in a shady spot about fifty yards from the pump. Keeping his bag of food in his hands, John laid down and was asleep almost immediately. During the hottest part of the day, John slept peacefully, exhausted from his hours of walking and hours of hauling buckets of water.


	8. Routine

The routine of his day quickly became just that – routine. Day after day John trudged through the rapidly growing fields hauling bucket after bucket after bucket of water. At night he patrolled the fields.

Days came and went. John rapidly lost track of how long he had been there. His days were so repetitive that he had no unique events to hang his memories around. When you did the same thing all day every day it was hard to distinguish one day from another.

It was physical labor which left him tired each time he laid down to rest. He worked. He slept. He worked. He slept. Days rolled on, the crops grew taller. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. John worked very hard to make the Master happy, or at least not annoy the Master. He succeeded in keeping peace, not enduring another beating or another shock treatment with the cattle prod.

The Master appeared at random, unpredictable times most days to check on John's work. Some days he simply watched, other times they conversed briefly. Each time the Master appeared, John dropped to his knees as instructed and repeated the mantra to the Master: "I am a slave. You are my Master. I live to serve and obey my Master. I own nothing. I have a right to nothing. I control nothing. I am nothing. Everything comes from my Master and by his will. What makes me happy is to obey. What fulfills me is to follow his every command."

Once John missed the approach of the Master and was startled when the man appeared. Crying out in surprise, John dropped the bucket he was holding. The water that had been in the bucket splashed all over the Master's feet, soaking his shoes.

It was impossible to tell which of them was more startled by what had just happened, the Master or the Slave. John dropped to his knees and tried in vain to wipe the water from the Master's shoes. With his hands about to try again, John was zapped by the cattle prod/taser thing. On reflection he remembered it touching his shoulder. With jolts of electricity shooting through his body, John fell backwards to the ground as all of his muscles clenched and unclenched in rapid succession. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, trying to wait out the pain.

"You worthless piece of shit!" the Master said quietly and with a hint of ruthlessness in his voice.

"I'm sorry," John tried.

"I'm sorry what?"

"I'm sorry, Master."

By this time John had reopened his eyes and was beginning to get some hint of control over his body once again, with only occasional uncontrolled jerks.

One look at the Master's face told the entire story – he was furious.

"Rise and follow me."

On his second attempt at standing John was able to get unsteadily to his feet. Slowly he headed off toward the Master who now stood beside the giant pylon to which John's chain was attached. When John caught up with the Master, he spoke just as John was preparing to drop to his knees.

"Stand facing the pylon and wrap your arms around it. Do not move until your punishment is finished."

John was cringing inside, not knowing what punishment the Master was going to exact for his mistake. Following orders, John stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the giant concrete pylon. He stood upright with his arms spread.

Silence followed for the next several minutes, silence that was worse than the prospect of pain. In the silence John didn't know what was coming, what pain he faced. At least when the strapping happened he had known how many hits there would be.

The quiet of the night was broken by the snap of the Master's belt on John's bare ass. John cringed but did not move. Silence followed once again for an interminable period of time. "What was the Master doing? What was he thinking? Just get it over with!"

Again the silence of the night was replaced by the sound of another strap to John's ass. He jumped but did not move. A third and fourth slap followed almost immediately. John wasn't going to be able to sit down anytime soon at this rate.

Silence again followed by several more snaps of the belt, each one a bit more vicious and strong than the last. With each slap he heard the Master snarl, something that scared him to his core.

At the 20th slap of the belt to John's red ass, he cried out with tears flowing down his face. "I'm sorry," he practically screamed. "Please stop. Master, please stop!" His words were nearly unintelligible because of his crying. His ass throbbed from the vicious beating he had received.

"You are a worthless waste of food!" the Master said quietly into John's left ear. John could hear the Master stalk away. Since the Master had not given him permission to move, John remained where he was. As the minutes ticked past John was terribly torn over what to do – should he remain standing, hugging the concrete pylon, or should he return to work.

After about an hour John dropped his arms from the pylon. Slowly and painfully he returned to the field to find his bucket and return to the never-ending work. The next day no food was brought to John. When food appeared the following day he wolfed down every morsel almost immediately.

Completely out of character, John worked hard to impress the Master and to make him happy. At first his work was to avoid further beatings, but as time went by John found himself working to win the Master's approval and good will. The only pleasure in John's world came from the approval of the Master when he was pleased with John's work. John came to live for an approving nod or a smile from the Master.

As one day rolled into another, John thought less and less about Atlantis and the people there. There had been no sign of his teammates so he could only assume that they had lost his trail and been unable to track him down. With no alternative, he resigned himself to his current existence. There was no alternative and he had to make the best of the current situation.

One evening when the Master appeared, John heard him coming and had dropped obediently to his knees at the Master's feet. He recited his mantra and then lifted his eyes to look for approval from the Master. He received a nod of approval.

The Master's hand went to his pants and pulled out his penis, the penis that had so thoroughly and pleasurably fucked John the day in the farm yard. This was something new. The Master had never done this before. He grabbed his penis with one hand and the back of John's head with the other and shoved his penis into John's mouth.

John sucked the penis as it thickened and lengthened into the instrument that had given him such pleasure once before. John had never been especially orally oriented but did his best to please the Master. He licked the erect penis from tip to base and then sucked the Master's erection deep into his throat. John's technique was not flawless but he showed a great deal of effort.

John noticed the Master's balls start to contract, to pull closer to his body, and knew that the Master was about to come. John was determined to make him pleased so he sucked the dick especially hard, holding it deep in his throat each time it was in his mouth. He felt the eruption and worked hard to swallow every drop, his gift from the Master. As the Master moaned and rocked on his feet, John held the wilting penis in his mouth. After several minutes the Master tucked his soft penis back inside his pants. Without a word he turned and left. John remained kneeling for several minutes before returning to his work.

Since he had no way to shave, John had grown a full beard. He was concerned that his whiskers would cause discomfort while sucking the Master's dick but John had no way to shave off the hair. While he had always been lean and muscular, the days upon days of physical labor toned him up even more.

Also unnoticed until recently, the days had grown shorter and the nights came earlier. John no longer thought about why things were what they were – the only way he survived was by taking each thing as it came without question or complaint.

One thing that did not recur was being fucked by the Master. Despite his discomfort being tied up and beaten, the sexual contact with the Master had been pleasant. On reflection, John realized that the Master could have taken him brutally, hard, fast, with no preparation. John could have been left bloody and in serious pain. Instead, the Master had treated John well, preparing him, and bringing pleasure to John – not to mention an orgasm that had curled his toes.

Even though he spent all of his time alone, John had not masturbated once since his arrival on this planet. In fact, he had had no sexual release of any sort since his one time with the Master. While he never wanted to repeat the tied up and beaten part, John secretly wouldn't have minded having the Master deep inside his ass once again, rubbing his prostate as only an erect penis can.

After months of sunny days with hardly a cloud in the sky, one morning John noticed something out of the ordinary: there were clouds in the sky. Looking toward the sky he noticed a rather large bank of dark clouds pushing their way toward his location. It had been so long since he had seen anything other than clear, sunny skies he had almost forgotten that there was anything else. "So, this world does have weather other than sun," he thought.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky toward something on the ground a fair distance away. A long, rumbling wave of thunder followed not too long after the flash of lightning. Suddenly remembering that he was outdoors, exposed, and chained to the equivalent of a giant lightning rod gave him a burst of panic. "Oh, shit," he said aloud though no one was there to hear him.

Even though he knew what would happen, he had to pull on his chain to see if maybe, somehow since he had last tried this move it had worked its way lose enough for him to get away. No luck. The chain was still bolted into solid concrete and was going nowhere.

All out of ideas, John felt a wave of calm wash over him, replacing the panic he had felt a moment earlier. He decided that the best course of action was to get as far from the big lightning rod as he could get, as far as his chains would allow, and try to dig himself into the ground a little ways, and hope for the best.

He found a spot and knelt down, digging in the dirt with his bare hands to try to make a pit of some sort for himself. He stopped when more lightning appeared followed almost instantly by loud claps of thunder. Moments later rain drops began to fall.

More lightning was followed by more ground-shaking thunder. Thankfully, though, none of the lightning struck the tower to which he was chained. The rain, however, was cold. The storm dropped the temperature a great deal rather quickly. While it felt good to have a shower after so many months without one, the temperature rapidly cooled so much that he was shaking. Rubbing his hands on his arms and legs to try to warm up a little, he paced as much as he could in the field of mud.

The storm blew out as quickly as it had blown in, followed by a strong wind that made the air temperature feel just that much colder. He crouched down and tried to make the exposed parts of his body as small as possible in a vain effort to retain some of his body heat. Shivering uncontrollably, John felt more miserable that he had in a long, long time.

As the wind blew with increasing ferocity, John did what little he could to stay warm. Much to his surprise, though, the Master appeared, tramping through the mud. John started to kneel but the Master simply said, "Later."

The Master found John's chain and followed it to where John was crouching in the mud, shivering. Without a word he removed the chain from John's collar and replaced it with a leash by which he led John out of the field. John's shivering made it difficult to walk but he managed to keep up.

The Master led John into the farm yard which he had not seen for some time (thankfully, since it's only association for John was negative). He led John toward a barn near the house. Opening a door to the barn he led John inside to corner that was filled with hay. He attached a new chain to John's collar and left.

John burrowed into the hay which was fortunately dry and out of the ferocious wind. Hay did not provide much warmth but it was better than nothing. Much to his surprise, moments later the Master reappeared and threw a blanket at John. John was too startled by the act to respond in any way.

The Master stood before him and simply said one word, "Now."

This was John's cue to kneel and recite his mantra. Since the words had been repeated dozens upon dozens, maybe hundreds of times by now, they flowed easily from John's lips. "I am a slave. You are my Master. I live to serve and obey my Master. I own nothing. I have a right to nothing. I control nothing. I am nothing. Everything comes from my Master and by his will. What makes me happy is to obey. What fulfills me is to follow his every command."

The Master turned and left, closing the barn door behind him. John took the blanket and wrapped it around his shivering body. The blanket felt like the greatest thing ever invented by mankind on any planet anywhere in the known universe. It smelled like it had most likely been a blanket that had been used on a farm animal but to John it was heaven. He had hay for a pillow and a nice warm blanket wrapped around his body, he was out of the wind and the rain, and for once he didn't have to haul buckets of water to the plants. With a smile on his face, he fell quickly asleep.


	9. A Blanket

John woke many hours later, still wrapped securely in his blanket, to find the old woman standing over him, looking down at his face.

Not sure what to make of this, John simply said, "Good morning."

The old woman continued to study him for a few moments longer and then tossed his a sack – his daily food. He accepted the sack and said, "Thank you."

"Better now," she said approvingly. "Hard to walk to field. I not walk too good no more. Easier to get to barn to feed eight than out to that field."

"Good." A moment of silence and then John asked, "What kind of work do you do here?"

"Cook," she answered. "Cook for whole farm. They like my cooking," she said proudly.

"Me, too," John added.

The old crone smiled ever more, showing John that she did not have a single tooth in her ancient mouth.

Since the old woman had left the barn door open when she entered with his food, John noticed lots of voices coming from somewhere outside.

"What's going on out there," he asked. "Sounds like a lot of voices."

"Harvest," the old woman answered.

"Harvest? You mean in the fields I tended?"

"All the fields. Crops are ready."

"What happens to me now if the crops are harvested?"

She looked strangely at John, like he had just asked her to explain nuclear physics to him or something like that. "Master give you work."

She left, closing the barn door behind her. John opened his sack and found something like a sandwich with some sort of meat between two big hunks of bread. John did like the bread the old woman made.

The barn, while sheltering John from the cold and the wind, was also boring as hell for John. He was used to working in the fields all day and night each day. He was not accustomed to having time to do nothing. It felt wrong. John didn't know what he was supposed to do, but thought he would go nuts if he was kept in the gloomy barn for too long.

A few hours later the Master appeared in the barn. John instantly dropped to his knees and recited his mantra. Looking up at the Master's face for any sign of approval, John saw a small smile – his day was now complete, he had made the Master happy.

"The old woman needs help in the kitchen. She has to feed all the men doing the harvest, but she's too old to keep up." Unhooking the chain on John's collar, the Master attached a leash and led John outside and across the farm yard to the back of the house. John had never seen the house from this angle and was surprised to find that it was much bigger than he had originally observed.

The Master opened a door and led John inside to a toasty warm kitchen. The air outside was decidedly cooler. When seasons shifted on this planet, they apparently did so rapidly, not gradually. The old woman was working in the kitchen, surrounded by mountains of vegetables and other foods John could not identify.

Leading John to the mountain of vegetables, he dropped John's leash and said, "Here, help the woman chop these for the stew. Follow her instructions." He removed the leash from John's collar but surprisingly did not pull out another chain. Knowing what John was thinking, the Master said, "It would be too difficult to chain you up in here so I'm going to have to trust you." Looking directly into John's eyes he said, "Can I trust you?"

"Yes, Master," John said.

"Good, because if you try to escape, I'm holding the woman responsible and I will kill her if I return to find you missing. I've also instructed the guards that if they see you out and about, they are to shoot you on sight. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Get to work. We've got a lot of men to feed." The Master left the kitchen through another door that apparently led into the house. John's eyes roamed around the kitchen which was huge, filled with work surfaces as well as mountains of food – sides of some type of meat, huge wheels of cheese, piles of vegetables, and other things still to be identified.

John felt a poke at his side and looked to see the old woman holding out a paring knife to him. "Cut like this," she instructed, showing him how to cut each of the different vegetables. She told him what pot to put them in when he was done. John diligently got to work, doing exactly as the woman had instructed him.

When the vegetables were cut she ordered John to fetch pots of water to fill the big cook pot on the back of the stove. That task finished, she seasoned the soup/stew and turned to the cheese.

Holding out a huge butcher knife she instructed John how to carve the wheel of cheese into serving sizes. She gave him a huge platter with instructions to fill it completely. When she wasn't looking once, John shoved a small bite of cheese into his mouth. He liked this one – it was more smooth and creamy than others he had had.

Together the two of them worked through the afternoon, though the work clearly wore out the old woman. At one point John suggested she sit down and rest and let him work for awhile; she reluctantly agreed, noting that they were ahead of schedule anyway.

At one point the Master stuck his head in to check on their progress, nodding his approval but not offering anything else. The old woman finished the stew which smelled amazingly good. She pulled a large number of loaves of bread from the huge kitchen oven and set them on a counter to cool.

The woman instructed John to get down serving bowls and plates for the bread and told him where to put everything. Two men appeared, men that John had never seen before. They completely disregarded John and went to the stove to pick up the big cook pot of stew. They disappeared through yet another door with the pot and then returned moments later to collect the bowls, utensils, and bread. Altogether it took them several round trips. John had been salivating throughout the morning as they worked to assemble the veritable feast. It pained him immensely when the food was all taken away.

The old woman poured what appeared to be tea into two cups and instructed John to sit with her for a few minutes. Much to his surprise, he found the tea quite tasty. Savoring the tea and enjoying the quiet moments with the old woman, John smiled – this was definitely better than field work.

Soon after the Master poked his head into the kitchen and instructed John to follow him into the adjacent dining room to clean up the dishes. The table was huge and easily sat 30 people. And those 30 people had made a mess. There were dirty dishes, napkins, crumbs everywhere. The Master left John to the task of cleaning up the dishes, returning them to the kitchen where the old woman instructed him in where to put the scraps.

On about his tenth trip into the dining room, John was startled to find another person in the room. This was yet another man John had never seen before – nice enough looking, tall, with a head of thick blond hair and a moustache. The man looked at John and said, "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

He walked over to John, who stepped back toward the wall in an effort to get out of the man's way. The man didn't stop, instead pushing him back up against the wall. The man's hands instantly went to John's crotch and grabbed his dick. The other hand wound around John's waist and grabbed his ass. "Where's he been hiding this little gem?"

Both men jumped when the Master's voice boomed out, "Hands off! He's mine." The man obeyed, stepped away, and apologized to the Master for his mistake before leaving the room. The Master said nothing but left John to return to his work.

Once the table was cleared, John returned to the kitchen and was instructed on the washing of the dishes. For the next couple of hours he worked circles around the old woman who was clearly having trouble moving and was most likely exhausted. When John suggested she take a break, she explained that there was no time – dinner had to be started now in order to feed everyone that evening. She did, however, put out two bowls of the stew. Apparently she had found enough leftovers for each of them to have bowl. She poured more tea as they sat down to eat their feast. There was also some bread left which soaked up the stew beautifully. John couldn't remember something so simple tasting so wonderful in a long time.

The old woman set John to work peeling something that he called a potato. There was an absolute mountain of the things, whatever they were. She turned her attention to the huge sides of meat, trimming scraps off here and there before basting them with something. When they were ready she asked John to lift them from the counter and place them in the oven. The pans weighed a ton – John wondered how she had ever managed to do this by herself.

Following the evening meal there was the inevitable clean-up. John was finishing the last of the dishes when the Master appeared at his side. John dropped to his knees and recited his mantra.

"Rise." John stood and looked at the Master. "You did well today."

John smiled. "Thank you, Master. It is my pleasure to serve."

The Master was about to say something else when the old woman shuffled back into the room. He beckoned John to follow him to another room. The room was nicely furnished with comfortable chairs, drapes at all of the windows, and something resembling a sofa. He led John through that room to a hallway and then into a room that was a plain looking bedroom.

"It's time to please your Master," he explained while disrobing. His penis was already erect. "On the bed," he ordered, "face down." John followed orders. He felt the Master's hands on his ass, prying his checks apart and rubbing his exposed hole. He felt something greasy applied and then gently worked into his ass. The Master was clearly very skilled at this, which John appreciated.

John arched his back and pushed his ass back when the fingers in his ass were withdrawn. The fingers were replaced, however, with the Master's erection. The Master sank balls-deep into John's ass and laid on top of John without moving. John flexed the muscles of his ass to gently caress the Master's dick buried within his body.

"Eager, I see. Very well."

The Master withdrew his penis until just the head remained inside the ring of John's ass. He slowly pushed it back inside John's ass and repeated the move. John moaned, which was matched by groans of approval from the Master. Slowly they fucked, John pushing back when the erection retreated.

The pace increased, with the Master soon pounding himself into John's ass. He thrust deeply and rapidly, pushing John's legs even wider apart to get better access to his target. Near the end he was somehow practically throwing himself onto John with each thrust. The thrusts were deep but not painful for John.

John continued to work his ass to milk the Master's dick, which was apparently enough to push the Master over the edge. John of course was not able to feel the actual ejaculation, but he could feel the Master shudder and groan with his release. The Master collapsed onto John's back and let his breathing return to normal.

"You do that very well," he offered.

"Thank you, Master," John responded. "It felt good to me as well."

The Master's erection shrunk back to its normal size, eventually slipped from John's ass. After a few minutes the Master rolled off John's back and pulled John to his side so that they were in a spooning position. The Master's hand held John's chest, gently toying with John's pointy nipples.

John was thinking the Master was falling asleep when the man rose from the bed and dressed. "Come on," was his only instruction to John, who rose and followed the Master.

The Master pushed some sort of button that rang a bell elsewhere in the house. Seconds later another man appeared, dressed in simple but clean clothes. "Wash him," he instructed the man, "he stinks." Speaking to John he said, "Follow him and return once you are clean."

John followed his new escort to an indoor bathroom. He was instructed to get into the tub while the man fetched warm water with which John could bathe. Soon the tub was half-way filled with warm water. John expected to be left alone to wash himself but the man clearly had other ideas. He poured water over John's head and then scrubbed it with soap. Since John's hair had grown much longer it was matted and dirty.

The man took a cloth and washed John's face, his neck, chest and back. He instructed John to stand and thoroughly washed the rest of John's body, including the space between his butt checks. John was startled when the man instructed him to lean forward. He felt fingers pushing inside his butt, cleaning even there.

Washing actually felt great to John since he had been months without soap, toilet paper, or a toothbrush. John was rinsed thoroughly and then dried with a large towel. He was given something with which to clean his teeth and comb his hair, which looked far better now cleaned and combed into place. The man then led John back to the bed in the Master's room.

The Master was sitting naked in a chair by the window, reading a book. Without rising he nodded his head toward the bed, which John took to be an instruction to get onto the bed. John took a chance and laid down on his back. It felt strange to be in a bed again after so many months of sleeping on the ground or in barns.

The Master closed his book, setting it aside, and walked to the side of the bed. "Kneel and recite." John did as instructed and then was directed back to the bed. The Master spread John's legs and leaned forward to plan a kiss on John's lips. John bore the weight of the Master with his legs splayed open. The Master's hands went around the back of John's head, running through his now clean hair.

The Master stopped, sat back, lubricated his erect dick and John's hole, then raised John's legs to his shoulders and inserted his erection into John's ass. Falling forward he again kissed John while his dick throbbed in John's ass. John shuddered involuntarily as the Master began to slowly fuck his ass. The feeling was overwhelmingly good to John. Since this was their second fuck within the hour, it took longer for the Master to come this time. He fucked John leisurely for nearly 30 minutes before finally jack-hammering into John's ass and planting his seed.

John felt the Master fall forward. He put his hands around the Master's back and stroked while the Master's erection subsided within his body.

"Good," was the only word the Master uttered as he pulled his spent penis from John's ass and found a towel to wipe himself. He tossed the towel to John who wiped his ass. The Master waved for John to follow him. They went into the kitchen which was dark now. A small room off the kitchen, clearly a storage room of some sort, was equipped with a chain and a blanket. John was re-chained and left in the dark without a word from the Master.

Feeling overwhelmed by the day just past, John settled down to sleep.


	10. The Harvesters

John spent the next day as he had the previous day, preparing food, clearing tables, and doing dishes. In the evening he was bathed and the Master fucked his ass. This pattern repeated the next day and the next and the next.

Sounds of pots clanking and clattering in the kitchen roused John from his sleep. He heard feet shuffling about the kitchen and smelled wonderful odors of breakfast cooking. The Master appeared moments later at his door and unchained John, pointing toward the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, the Master informed John and the old woman that he had business that would take him away for the day. He planned to be home in time for dinner. "The man in charge of the harvesters will be here all day to supervise his men."

That afternoon when John was clearing the dishes from the table following the mid-day meal for the harvesters, another man came into the dining room. This man, unlike the last one John had encountered in the dining room, was well dressed and styled. This was clearly not a laborer like the last man.

"Well, hello," the man said. "Aren't you just a little piece of heaven?" The man walked slowly toward John. Just like his last encounter in this room, the man put his hands on John's ass and stroked his penis. John was terrified, not sure what to do. He was the Master's property, not the property of this stranger, but unfortunately the Master was not present to clarify the matter for this man.

"I think I've just found the perfect bonus for my men. Put those dishes down and come with me." The man led John outside of the house and across the yard to the barn. As they approached the barn John could hear male voices from inside, talking and laughing.

Once inside, John saw that there were indeed men in the barn – roughly 15 he guessed. They were seated in a large circle leaning back on bales of hay, clearly taking a post-lunch break before returning to the fields.

The man pushed John into the center of the circle and announced, "I've got a little bonus for you boys. Here he is. Any of you horny?"

Hoots and hollers rose from around the room. John was grabbed and pushed face down onto a bale of hay. Two men held his arms, pulled away from his body. He felt more hands on each leg, pulling them apart.

"Ok. Who goes first."

John heard the voice of the man who had brought him here give a name. Seconds later he felt hands trying his ass open and felt spit hit his hole. With no other preliminaries he felt the man shove his erection into John's ass in one thrust. John cringed, the muscles in his ass clenching involuntarily and pain ripping through his mind. The man on top of him leaned forward slightly and piston pumped his penis into John's ass. He was fairly trim but was not above average in his endowment. Apparently the men had been without sexual relief for some time since it didn't take more than a minute for the man to reach orgasm.

The dick in John's ass was pulled out in one move, leaving him suddenly feeling empty. Another name was called and another dick entered his ass. This one about the same size as the first but the man attached to it was fat. He laid forward and completely covered John's body, pumping John's ass. John felt the man's full weight bear down on him making it hard for him to breathe.

Fortunately, though, this man finished as quickly as the first and was gone. John took the opportunity to breathe. And so the cycle repeated. At one point the man coordinating the rape instructed some of his men to use John's mouth as well as his ass. Moments later John found his mouth stuffed full of a man's penis, just as he felt another inserted into his ass.

John lost count of how many men used him that afternoon. The only way he could endure this torture and abuse was to mentally distance himself from what was happening. The men might be using his body but in his mind he was elsewhere, focused on his simpler life working in the fields.

After a certain amount of abuse, John lost most sensation in his ass. However, he certainly felt the stretching and length of the latest erection pushed into his ass. This one was larger than the others in both length and thickness, stretching John more than he had been previously, and pushing into parts of his ass the others hadn't reached.

John was yanked back from his attempt at distancing himself. He wanted to scream in pain as the man pushed his full length inside of John. But because of the penis in his mouth he was unable to do so. He jerked his head around trying to dislodge the dick in his mouth. Unfortunately, though, the man at his mouth had a firm grip on John's head and wasn't giving him any wiggle room.

The man attached to the dick in his ass leaned completely forward and laid atop John's prone body. John felt his weight but was more focused on the pain radiating out from his ass. This man put his full weight on John's body, wrapped his arms under John's shoulders and wrapped them around the back of John's neck, interlacing his fingers, giving him full control over John's body. And then it started. The man had a larger than average endowment and believed in using it vigorously. It felt like a jack-hammer pounding his ass. Constant in and out, up and down, rapid-fire, deep strokes. Occasionally the man pulled his erection fully out of John's ass, only to slam it back inside in one jab. John gave up trying to focus on something else – the pain his body was feeling just wouldn't allow it to happen.

The man who had been inside John's mouth shot off and pulled out. Fortunately there was not another waiting to immediately take his place. John dropped his head to the hay bale and tried to breathe. Tears welled up in his eyes but he fought the urge to cry.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the man in John's ass got off. While the others had finished and immediately pulled out, this one remained where he was. John felt the formerly rock hard penis become long and swollen as it remained inside his ass. The man lay on top of John and said, "Nice piece of ass, boss, but he's getting a little lose."

"No problem, boys. I can take care of that. Get off," he ordered, and John felt the weight on his back removed and the dick withdrawn from his ass. John waited for another man to crawl on top of his body and use him, but no one else appeared. Seconds later, John's body jerked when a belt was slapped across his ass hard. He grunted and tried to look to see where this had come from. The sight he saw horrified him. The man who had brought him out here was standing beside John, holding a big belt. The look in his eye was one of glee and tremendous excitement.

He brought the belt down hard once again on John's ass. He stepped back, got good leverage and belted him again, and again, and again. After about a dozen strokes John couldn't hold it in anymore. He screamed as the belt hit him again. The force behind each blow was mind boggling in its intensity.

"There you go, boys. That should tighten him up for you. Next."

John heard laughter all around. Another man was on top of him and another dick entered his ass. John spaced out at that point and lost all track of who was using his body for their own gratification. He didn't know if two more men had entered him or twenty. He had also lost all track of time.

"What in the name of all that is holy is going on here," he heard the Master yell. "What have you done? Get off that man. Get your dirty hands off of him immediately. He is not your property. I cannot believe the audacity you had to go into my house and take my property and use it in this manner. You disgust me! I'm paying you men to harvest the crops. Since you're not doing that, no one gets paid for today. Now get out!"

All of the hands that had formerly held John's limbs disappeared. He could hear clothes being rearranged and men quickly exiting the barn. Apparently the man who had brought him to the barn remained. "Just letting the men have a little fun, Craylon. No harm in that. It makes them work just that much harder. And you most certainly are paying me for a full days work from each of them today." John heard the sound of boots crunching in the dirt as the man apparently left the barn. That left John and the Master alone in the barn. John hadn't moved a muscle, laying where he had been placed, softly crying.

"Oh, dear God. What have they done to you?" He touched the belt marks on John's ass, causing John to jerk away. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. You've got to believe me. I would never have allowed this to happen if I had been here. Can you move?" he asked John.

John tried to stand, wincing in pain as he did so. "Come on – put your arm around my shoulder. I'll help you get back to the house." Together they walked slowly back toward the house. Once inside he ushered John to a room he hadn't seen before with a large bed. He helped John to lay down before summoning the man who had bathed him previously.

Together the Master and his servant cleaned John and applied soothing ointments to the welts on his back and butt. The Master gave John something to drink, telling him it would ease the pain. John obeyed, finding that it did indeed help to ease the pain. It also made him sleep which was a welcome escape from the torture he had endured that day.

The Master remained around the house constantly while John recuperated. He never left the house once, although John was not aware of this since he slept so much of the time while in bed.

John spent three days in the bedroom under the watchful eye of the Master's servant. On the fourth day, feeling somewhat better but still sore, John rose from the bed and returned to the kitchen and his work with the old woman. He tried to forget the experience in the barn. He wanted to erase it from his mind and never think of it again.

The routine of the kitchen work was helpful. Food was prepared, meals were cooked and served, dishes were collected and washed, and the whole thing was repeated. John slept and repeated the cycle again, three times a day. The work was not strenuous but it was constant which helped to keep his mind occupied.


	11. Harvesters II

On later reflection, John guessed that it was about two weeks later when he next encountered the man in charge of the harvesters. Once again they encountered one another in the dining room. John had thought everyone was finished making it safe for him to enter clear the table. The room was indeed empty but the man had apparently been close by because he entered the room almost as soon as John did.

"Hello, my pretty. You gave my men great joy. It's a shame I never got to partake of your body. I'm not busy this afternoon so perhaps we can rectify that little oversight." He stood inches from John's face, their lips nearly touching. John closed his eyes and stood absolutely stone still, wishing for anything except this man.

"Take you hands off of him," John heard the Master command in a low and decisive voice. "He is not your property and you are to keep your filthy hands away from him. Do you understand me?"

The man, however, did not remove his hands but stroked John's dick and ass. "Now, Craylon, do know that a treasure like this should be shared so that all might appreciate him?"

Walking forward, the Master repeated his earlier words, "Hands off!"

The man this time did as instructed but with a look of reluctance on his face. John stood frozen in place while the man and the Master faced each other.

"Really, Craylon, I think you should offer me an opportunity to sample this man's obvious talents."

"No."

"Now, Craylon, we've done business for years. I generously let you use my men for your harvest."

"You charge me a small fortune for the service of your men, and you know it."

"Yes, well we are business men, you and I, aren't we?" His eyes wandered over John's naked body. "And I would hate to see that business relationship damaged by something so slight. I would hate, for example, to find that my men were busy the next time your crops needed harvesting? And I would also hate it if the rate for my harvesters were to say double for the next harvest. Really, Craylon, just an hour? Surely you can give me an hour to use him? One hour and we continue to do business as we always have."

The Master was clearly bothered by the threats. "I find your demands to be unreasonable. I do not like having my arm twisted."

"No one is twisting your arm, Craylon. You are a free individual. You make your own decisions."

"I am very reluctant to give you any time with this slave. He is my personal property and I do not want him damaged. You know as well as I that you have a reputation of abusing the men you bed."

Smiling, the man responded, "What can I say, I'm a vigorous, demanding lover. One hour, Craylon."

Clearly frustrated but out of options, the Master said, "Very well. But I'll be listening and timing you. Return him in one piece, undamaged. Do you hear me?" he said in a threatening tone.

"But of course. Come now my pretty," he instructed John. "Which bed may I use, Craylon? And I'll need some rope." The last comment made John shudder with fear. He had no alternative but to do as instructed so he followed the two men into yet another bedroom. The Master disappeared momentarily but returned with the requested rope. "Put him on the bed and tie his arms to the bedposts, please," he instructed the Master as he disrobed.

John reluctantly went to the bed, laid down, and allowed the Master to secure his arms to the two bedposts. The Master reluctantly left the room and closed the door. For the first time, John noticed that the man was a solid wall of muscle. He was a good-looking man, and not as soft as John had originally thought. As his eyes drifted downward however his breathe caught when he noticed the man's dick – it was huge, and still lengthening.

The man stood by the bed, stroking John's hair and directly his lips to the man's dick. The dick was shoved into John's mouth and throat and held in place until John started to choke from lack of air. The dick was withdrawn only to be shoved immediately back in and once again held in place. This pattern repeated until John started to feel light headed from his inability to breathe.

When the man stepped away, John gasped in lungs full of air. His head dropped back to the pillow. He looked down when he felt the mattress shift. The man was crawling between John's legs. His erection was truly frightening. John was seriously scared, not knowing what he was going to do. There was no way that that dick was going to fit inside his ass.

John's legs were lifted into the air and he was bent in half. Unlubricated fingers were shoved roughly into his ass, causing John to tense, involuntarily tightening the muscles in his ass.

The fingers were withdrawn; he felt something he assumed was lubricant being spread over his ass. What followed was the most painful experience of John's life. The man showed no mercy. With no preparation, he shoved his thick trunk-like penis into John's ass. John felt like he was being ripped in two. Despite his attempts to be stoic and endure the experience, John screamed in agony. The dick kept sinking into his ass. After about the halfway mark it became more difficult. The dick head struck something inside John that was the absolute opposite of the pleasure his prostate provided. John writhed, pulling uselessly at his restraints.

The man stopped his insertion and looked down at John. "Quiet now. Don't make me gag you."

John attempted to comply but as the man attempted to shove more of his erection into John's ass it was nearly impossible. John threw his head back and grimaced. He was in such pain that his vision went white with bright points of light where objects should be. If only he could have passed out, he thought, he could have endured the rape, but unfortunately he remained conscious.

Whether or not the entire thing was shoved into him, the dick was withdrawn before being immediately slammed back into John. John bit his lip, trying to avoid screaming. Each stroke was agony. He was stretched beyond his limit. On each stroke the head of the man's dick painfully struck something, causing John to writhe and thrash. Tears streaked down John's face. The man clearly enjoyed this and continued his assault on John's ass.

Time was lost to John. He couldn't have told if the man had been on top of him for a minute or for an hour. All he knew was that he was thankful when the man shoved in one last time and clearly exploded inside John's ass. With his penis still mostly engorged, he abruptly pulled it from John's ass, causing yet another gasp of shock from John. The man found a towel, cleaned himself off, dressed and left without a word.

John's legs dropped back to the bed. He wanted nothing more than to pull inside himself and block out the world. Moments later the Master returned to the room and untied John's hands. When he was freed, John rolled to his side and pulled into a fetal position. The Master gasped when he saw John bleeding. The sheets were bloody as well.

"What have I done?" he whispered. He reached out a hand to John's arm. John shrank back involuntarily, tears continuing to roll down his checks. The Master left the room, returning a moment later with the man who had bathed him a few days earlier. Together they raised John from the bed and led him to the bathtub. Water filled the tub and John was allowed to soak for a few moments. The man then apologized but told John that it was important to examine him to see what damage had been done.

John cringed but complied. He rose to standing. The man was as gentle as possible, but still John screamed when the man probed his ass. Reacting to the pain he jumped forward, falling from the tub and crashing into the wall. The Master came running into the room and helped the man get John back to the tub. John noticed as they set him down that the water was now red. He realized that the red was his blood.

Together they rinsed John and moved him to a bed, packing towels between his legs. John returned to the fetal position he had been in earlier. He had stopped crying but spoke not a word. The Master touched his arm – at least this time John did not pull away.

The Master pulled a blanket over John, darkened the room and stepped outside, leaving the door open. John could hear the Master speaking with someone, he assumed it was the man who had bathed him. "He's torn up really bad," the man said.

"I know. I never should have let that son of a bitch touch him. Will the bleeding stop on its own?"

"Your guess is good as mine. I think we should watch him closely for the next few hours, change the towels and see what happens. I hope the bleeding will stop."

"Agreed." John drifted off at that point, falling into a sound sleep. The next thing he saw was the face of the old woman leaning over him. "You ok, boy?"

"No," John answered. "Hurt bad." He tried not to move, remaining curled up on his side. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything to take his mind off the throbbing in his ass. The woman went away but came back with a cup of tea. John reached out a hand and took a sip, amazed that his hand was shaking. She set the tea cup on the bedside table and then pulled up a chair and sat beside John. She took his hand and gently stroked it, humming quietly a tune that John had never heard. The tune was soft and melodic and helped him to escape the pain momentarily.

When John next awoke it was to find the Master changing the towels that were between his legs. "Good, the bleeding has stopped. Thanks be to the Gods," he muttered.

Over the following week, John slowly recovered his strength and energy. He was apprehensive about everything, constantly on his guard. He returned to the kitchen and helped the old woman with the daily meals. The Master noticed, though, that John did not speak a single word, but went about his work silently from that point forward.

A few months later, John was awakened in his sleeping space in the storage room – the Master had stopped chaining him up right after he was raped. "You're on your own in the kitchen."

John stared at him but did not utter a word. The Master left. John rose and started his morning work. He could only assume that the old woman had died during the night. John would miss her. He didn't know her name. In fact, she didn't even know her name. John didn't even know where she slept at night. He set down the knife he was using the cut a vegetable root and walked toward a door he thought led to the old woman's room. Pushing the door open he saw a bed. The old woman lay in the bed, clearly dead. John inched toward her, gently taking one of her hands and stroking it momentarily. "Thank you," he whispered. "Rest well."

He left the room and returned to his work. He ignored the men who came in soon after to remove the body. John never knew what they did with her. He could only hope that she was given a decent burial. She would live on in his memories.

Days ran together. John had more work than before since he was on his own now. In point of fact, thought, the old woman had been unable to do much work for the last few weeks. John had carried the load for both of them so this was really not that much different than before.

Like the work in the fields, his work in the kitchens was repetitive. One day ran into another. It was hard to look back and differentiate one day from another. The only thing that had changed since he was raped was that the Master had not touched him sexually since the rape, and John had not spoken to anyone unless absolutely necessary.

When the harvest was finished John's duties were expanded to include tending the farm garden located behind the farmhouse. He supposed that the old woman had performed this duty in addition to her work in the kitchen, but he didn't know.

He worked diligently, pulling weeds, hauling water, cutting off bad spots on plants, nurturing the plants, staking them up as they grew too tall to stand on their. As the weeks passed John started to harvest vegetables from the garden, adding them to the daily menu he prepared for the Master and the farm workers. He never received any complaints about his cooking which he took as a positive sign.

Weeks turned into months which turned into a year. John lost all track of time and thought nothing of life outside his little area. He kept his head down, performed his duties, and stayed out of sight.


	12. The Journey to Market

Without warning, one morning the Master handed John some clothes and told him to dress. John had been naked for more than two years by that point. Clothes felt entirely foreign to him. He complied with the Master's directions.

"Pack enough food for two for about five days," the Master instructed. "We're taking a trip."

Without complaint or question, John packed the food. He knew not where they were going or why they were going. He readied the kitchen for a few days of absence, making sure that all was clean and orderly.

The Master directed him to take the food to the wagon that stood in front of the house. Once the food was stored in the back, water was provided for the horses and the travelers. Food was provided for the horses, as well. When all was ready, the Master guided John to the seat beside him at the front of the wagon and attached a chain to his collar.

In silence they rode down the path leading away from the farm. John had not passed beyond the garden in close to over a year and had not passed out of the farm in more than two years. This all felt terribly strange to him.

They rode together in silence for nearly a day. John's eyes were constantly taking in everything they passed as they made their way to where he knew not. They pulled off to the side of the road periodically to feed and rest the horses, and to eat a bit themselves. At the third such stop, John was surprised when the Master spoke to him. "I need to tell you that I'm sorry."

John looked at him, holding his gaze, not knowing what to say. Finally he decided. "You're the Master."

A pause ensued.

"Yes, I'm the Master, and the Master made a bad decision. A decision that hurt you terribly. A decision that destroyed a part of you … and I'm sorry."

They ate in silence for a few moments. Finishing their lunch, the Master started to rise to get ready to get back on the road. John looked at him and said, "Thank you."

Not another word was spoken for the remainder of the day. That night they pulled off to the side of the road, unharnessed the horses, and curled up in the back of the crowded wagon to get some sleep. John had shed all of his clothes before going to bed. It still felt terribly strange to wear clothes. He didn't like the feeling. When he awoke during the night, John found the Master curled up close to him, with his arm draped around John's waist. For the first time in nearly a year, John smiled.

The Master was also awake, enjoying the closeness with his slave. John noticed that he felt the Master's erection against his butt. Without speaking a word he gently pulled the Master over to lay on top of him as he rolled onto his belly. He started pushing his butt back as the Master rubbed his erection across John's firm ass.

Somewhere close at hand he had found some lubricant. He pulled back, apparently to lubricate his dick. John felt fingers work some of the lubricant onto him. Soon the fingers were replaced by the rock hard erection of the Master. As he pushed into John, he sighed and simply said, "I've missed this."

"Me, too," John agreed, pulling the Master's arms tight about him.

Both men were so aroused after such a long time without contact, not to mention the excitement of fucking outside under the stars. The wagon began to rock as the Master thrust himself into John's body beneath him. There was an intensity to their mating that usually was only present near the end of their previous encounters. The Master knew that John's body wrapped around his erection like a soft, hot glove was going to bring him to completion far quicker than he wanted. He jack-hammered his erection into John's ass, gasping and shouting as he erupted. John felt the man shudder as he came and fell forward fully atop him.

Neither moved for fully five minutes. The Master softened a little but remained long and swollen inside John's body. "That was wonderful!"

"Yes," John agreed.

The Master rolled both of them onto their sides, somehow remaining inside John's body. His hand reached down, found John's erection, and started stroking. John's obvious arousal caused him to unconsciously clench his ass onto the Master's penis, bringing him back to full erection. As he stroked John's penis, he started once again pushing into and then pulling back, enjoying the less rushed sensation.

John had been as aroused as the Master, not lasting very long. The Master milked his dick until he was spent, rapidly bringing himself to completion once again as well. The two men fell asleep still entwined and connected.

The Master awoke to find John holding his hand, still snuggled together. "Morning," he said. "Sleep well?"

"Yes. You?"

"Very well, thanks to you."

"Good. I'm glad."

"We should get moving. We've still got along ways to go."

"Where are we headed?"

"We're going to market. I make the trek once a year to restock all of the things that we can't grow ourselves or buy from a neighboring farm. I hate this trip because it is so long. But it has to be done."

They cleaned up, redressed, prepared themselves to get under way. A few minutes later, the horses hitched to the wagon and everything stowed, they moved back onto the road and continued their journey. John noticed an increasing number of wagons and riders on horseback as the day wore on. In early afternoon they started to pass more buildings and before long they were riding down a street in a bustling town.

They pulled up to one store. The Master asked him to tend to the horses while he went inside. John welcomed the chance to stretch his legs and to be out of the wagon for a few minutes. The Master returned a few minutes later and instructed John to make room in the wagon for the first load of supplies. A boy from the store arrived soon with several boxes and bundles which John stowed in the back of the wagon.

They moved on to another store and repeated the procedure. On the fourth stop, with nothing to do, John stood leaning against the wagon watching people busily passing back and forth on the streets and sidewalks. He had not seen so many people in one place in – he couldn't remember when.

So many people, each in a hurry to get somewhere. So many lives, intersecting on this one busy street. Most of them did not speak to anyone they passed, only to people that appeared to be with them.

John saw a man on the sidewalk who met and held his gaze. It was a big man. A man wearing a leather vest, a sleeveless shirt, with a beard, and a ponytail. The man stared so intensely at John that John broke the gaze and looked at someone else. This was strange.

The man walked closer, stopping in front of John. "Sheppard?"

John stared for a few moments, reaching back into his memory for a name he hadn't thought of in well over a year. "Ronon?" he whispered in disbelief.

"Sheppard!" the man shouted as he picked John up and gave him a bear hug. "Thank God you're alive." Turning, the man yelled to someone else, "Teyla! It's Sheppard!"

The woman came running and joined in the hug. "John!" she screamed, "you're alive!" Tears of joy streaked down her face.

As she stepped back to take a look at John she noticed the chain. Her face froze. She looked at Ronon to see if he had seen the chain – he had. Ronon's face reflected equal parts of confusion and fury.

"Who did this to you Sheppard?" Ronon asked.

All heads turned when behind them they heard "Eight!" John recognized the voice of his Master. He knew the tone of voice and instantly dropped to his knees. Teyla and Ronon watched, confused and increasingly angry.

The Master approached the two strangers talking with his slave and asked that they step away from his wagon. Ronon drew his weapon and pointed it at the Master, who dropped the packages he was carrying. John remained frozen on his knees with his eyes down. Teyla reached down to John and pulled him upward. "Please stand, John."

"John," he practically whispered, "I haven't heard that name in years."

Ronon held his weapon on the Master, snarling one of his most ferocious snarls at the man. "Did you do this to him?"

"Who are you people and what are you doing with my slave?"

"He's not anyone's slave," Ronon answered.

"He's our friend and military commander of the Atlantis expedition," Teyla added. "He was kidnapped more than two years ago. We have been searching for him ever since. Unlock this chain – now! No man should ever be changed like an animal."

"I will do nothing of the sort. I asked you to step away and I really must insist. Otherwise I be forced to call the authorities. I don't know where you people come from, but here we don't steal one another's property."

"This man is no one's 'property.' He is our friend. I will not ask you again. Unlock this chain immediately!"

"I don't know who you are, but I paid a great deal of money for him. He's not for sale. He is mine, and I'm keeping him. Now get away!"

"Enough of this Teyla," Ronon decided that he had had all he could stand. "I'm gonna kill him."

Sensing a stalemate, she decided perhaps a bluff would help to sway the man who held John captive. "Perhaps that might be necessary," she agreed.

The Master clearly wanted to object, but realized that he was outnumbered two to one, and one of those two was a giant, angry looking man with a very big gun. He reached into his vest pocket and removed a key ring, holding it up for them to see. Using one of the keys he unlocked the chain attached to John's collar. He used another key from the ring to unlock the collar around John's neck. As wearing clothes once again after two years felt unnatural, being without his collar also felt wrong somehow. John's hands went to his neck, feeling skin that had been covered by the collar for more than two years. It felt almost unnatural, as if a part of him had just been taken away.

The Master made one last desperate attempt. "You people are stealing my valuable property. I will summon the authorities immediately. I am a well-known business man with large property holdings to the south."

"I don't care who you are," Ronon spit in reply, keeping his weapon aimed at the Master. "You kidnapped and imprisoned our friend. You have broken our rules and you will pay."

"Ronon!" Teyla exclaimed. "We have John back. That's all that matters. We should leave."

"He's mine!" the Master tried one last time.

Teyla joined Ronon in sneering at the man who had imprisoned their friend. "Come, John, we're going home."

"Home?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, back to Atlantis. All your friends will be so glad to see you back!"

"Atlantis? I'm going home?" he whispered, feeling terribly conflicted. In the two years he had been away from Atlantis he had come to know the Master's farm as home. He was torn between his memories of Atlantis and his more immediate remembrance of the farm.

"Yes, we're going home."

Leading him by the arm, Teyla led him away. Ronon remained a few steps behind, still holding his weapon on the man who had imprisoned John. "I should kill you where you stand. But I won't. Do you know why? Because John Sheppard, the man you chained up, wouldn't want me to. But if I ever see you again, I will kill you on sight." He dropped his hand to his side, still holding the weapon, and turned to join Teyla and John.

John hesitated, looked back at the Master, instinctively seeking some direction on what he should do. The Master looked sad but made no move to stop them. John stopped, turned, and walked back to the Master. Standing in front of him, John met his eyes but didn't speak. Finally, he said, "I'll miss you, I think."

"And I'll miss you, too." The Master gave him a quick hug and then released him to return to Teyla and Ronon.


	13. Return to Atlantis

When Teyla and Ronon sent their IDC through the gate, as per procedure, gate room personnel reported who was returning from off-world. The scheduled return of an off-world team was a regular occurrence, eliciting no excitement and no change in activity.

Personnel barely looked up when Ronon and Teyla stepped through the gate. It was only after the gate shut down that someone noticed that there were three people returning, not the two who were expected. Glancing at the third person, Chuck thought he looked vaguely familiar but was unable to place who he was or why he looked familiar. He rose from his seat and walked to the railed area overlooking the embarkation area. "Damn," he thought, "why do I know him?"

Chuck didn't go off-world, so the only people he knew were his own people and some of the regular visitors to Atlantis. He decided to walk down the steps to take a closer look at their visitor. About three steps from the bottom he raised his head sharply, stopped, and stared at the man again. "Oh, my God, Colonel Sheppard? Is it you?"

Teyla nodded. Chuck instantly touched his headset and yelled, "Attention, all personnel. Colonel Sheppard is in the Gate Room. I repeat, Colonel Sheppard is in the Gate Room! He's back!"

John hung close to Teyla and Ronon, overwhelmed and a bit afraid of the place. It was familiar and yet at the same time so strange, almost frightening. He knew the place, but he hadn't known the place and its comings and goings for more than two years. His entire world for two years was the quiet peace of the farm.

Someone else would have been appointed to replace him. Friends would have moved back to Earth and been replaced by people he didn't know. Friends could even have been killed in battles he didn't know anything about. The prospect of so much scared him.

When several people started to come toward them with smiles and cheers, Ronon held up his hand to hold them back. "Not yet." Teyla held John's waist and reassured him, "You're home, John. Home!"

"Home?" he echoed, vaguely uncertainly. "Home."

Ronon managed to hold the increasing crowd of people at bay while Teyla spoke quietly with John. One person, however, was having none of it, pushing his way through, "Get out of my way. Where is he?"

McKay stopped in front of John and stared. "Oh, my God, look at you. You look like a cave man. What's with the hair, and the beard. Where have you been?"

Sheppard stared for a moment and then something inside his mind broke. He threw himself at McKay. Tackling him to the floor, he shouted, "Why didn't you come get me? Why? Why? You left me there to rot in that hell hole!" It took several people to pull Sheppard off McKay with ultimately no harm done. It did, however, scare the living crap out of McKay who stood stunned at his friend's reaction. John just continued to scream, "You didn't come for me! You left me there! You didn't come for me!"

"My God, what did they do to you," he said softly. "I'm so sorry, John."

Teyla and Ronon decided it was time to lead John out of the crowd. Everyone was excited but it was clearly too much for John. He clung to Teyla and Ronon and kept his head down as they led him to the infirmary, still muttering, "No one came for me." A crowd followed them but Ronon kept them out with a glare and snarl.

Seated on an infirmary gurney, John looked around and asked, "Where's Carson? Carson!"

Teyla stood in front of John, looked him in the eye, and said, "John, Carson is dead. He was killed more than a year ago in an explosion. I'm sorry, John. I know he was your friend. We all mourn his loss."

John looked at Teyla unbelievingly. He shook his head as if he didn't believe what she said. He simply muttered, "No. No. No."

Teyla helped him to lay down on the gurney where he curled up once again into a fetal position, muttering over and over again, "No."

John felt a prick and then started to relax and drift gently off to sleep.

"I've given him a sedative to calm him down. Fill me in – who is he and what happened to him," the doctor asked.

"This is Colonel Sheppard, military commander of Atlantis," Teyla explained.

Ronon continued, "We found him on a planet, chained to a wagon where some man Teyla wouldn't let me kill held him as a slave. They really messed with him. He's scared."

The doctor asked Ronon to help get John's cloths off so he could perform an examination. Ronon stayed close and helped the doctor in whatever way he needed. It felt good to see his friend again, even if he was thinner than ever, covered with long hair and a scraggly beard. Once John's clothes were gone, the doctor observed several scars and abrasions.

He conducted a thorough examination, checking everything from top to bottom. He was shocked by the scaring and toughness of his patient's feet. The doctor performed a rectal exam and observed swelling and signs of recent sexual activity. The exam completed, he directed a nurse to cover him with a blanket, administer an additional mild sedative, and left to prepare his report. Ronon trailed behind and asked, "What happened to him?"

"There are clear signs of injury, some scarring on his back and buttocks. There are signs of very recent sexual activity as well as some scaring and other signs of sexual abuse, fairly serious abuse I would judge. I'd say he was raped at some point in the last year. He probably is going to suffer severe psychological after effects of the entire episode. He's going to have to overcome the last two years, get reacquainted with everyone here, and re-learn how to live here. You say he was chained?" The doctor shook his head in anger, "Dear God, I can't begin to imagine how he's going to deal with all of this? Who is ever capable of dealing with such a thing?"

"He can," Ronon answered. "If anyone can, John Sheppard can."

"I've heard lots of stories about John Sheppard. He's almost legendary around this place. I'm sorry that I didn't get to meet him before. But I'm glad I'll get to meet him now." The doctor looked at Ronon and added, "I'll do everything in my power to help him through this. I won't lie to you – this is going to be rough."

"Yeah, I guessed that from the way he went after McKay in the Gate Room and the way he's acted, so hesitant, since we found him."

The doctor went off to give his report. A constant stream of people came through the infirmary just to get a glance at John. Ronon stood guard, refusing to let any but Sheppard's best friends pass.

When Lorne arrived, breathless with excitement asking if it was true, Ronon nodded. Lorne asked, "How is he?"

Ronon was always a man of few words. His approach to life was that if one word answered the question, why say more. He answered Lorne with his usual succinctness. "Bad." Out of character, though, he added, "Really bad."

"May I?" Lorne ask the Satedan.

Nodding ascent, Ronon stepped back to allow Lorne entry. Lorne stood by John's beside studying the face of the man he hadn't seen in more than two years. He was shocked at the length of his hair and the addition of a full beard. Reaching out, his hand lightly touched the back of John's hand, gently stroking. Though he didn't expect it, John opened his eyes and looked at Lorne. "Welcome back, John. God I've missed you!" Lorne spoke quietly.

Sheppard took Lorne's hand in his and entwined their fingers, carefully studying their two hands. "Is it really real? Am I really here, or is this just a dream? If it is, I don't want to ever wake up." Tears flooded his eyes, something Lorne had never seen before. Still holding Sheppard's hand, he sat down on the edge of the bed and tried his best to comfort the troubled man.

"It's real. I promise. Feel my hand. Put your hands on my face and feel. I'm real. Your back home where you belong and I am thanking any and every heavenly power that might be listening. Our dark days are over. John Sheppard is back where he belongs."

Sheppard tentatively reached his hand to Lorne's face and felt his jaw, his checks, his eyes, and his forehead. "Yes, real. It's real." More tears, Lorne hoped tears of joy.

"It's ok, John," he whispered. "You're home, you're safe, it's all over and you're back with us. We'll do everything we can to help you and to keep you safe so nothing like this ever happens again."

His other hand over the top of their two entwined hands, John looked up with pleading eyes. "Thank you."

While Lorne was entirely focused on John, others were coming and going, hoping for a moment with John. Ronon refused entry to all until General O'Neill and Daniel Jackson arrived.

"Sheppard!" O'Neill greeted him warmly. "I heard rumors you were back. Glad to see you!"

"Welcome back, John," Daniel added.

"General, Dr. Jackson, what are you doing here?"

Lorne answered, "General O'Neill is the head of the Atlantis Expedition now. We got lucky this time and got a good one," he added, smiling.

"Where's Elizabeth?" John asked, finally extricating his hand from Lorne's.

"Elizabeth isn't here anymore," O'Neill answered. "A lot has changed, John. You've been gone more than two years. We've got a lot of catching up to do." Reaching out, O'Neill placed his hand on John's leg, adding, "But we'll have plenty of time for that once you're out of here." He squeezed John's leg, "I can't tell you how glad I am to have you back."

Jokingly, Lorne said, "Hey, hey, you complaining about my work, General?"

"Never, Colonel Lorne, never."

"Colonel?" John asked.

"I was promoted about a year ago. Not bad, huh?"

"Congratulations."

One of the many medical personnel buzzing around the Infirmary stood two beds away. To be heard over the background noise of the busy Infirmary, the doctor asked Lorne a question. "Colonel, how many days before the General Hammond arrives?"

Lorne, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the Infirmary said simply, "Eight."

Lorne, O'Neill, and Jackson were stunned to see Sheppard spring from his bed, throw off his blanket, and throw himself naked to the floor next to his bed. They looked and saw that he was kneeling with his head and eyes pointed downward.

O'Neill advanced a step or two, kneeling down. Softly, sensing the very fragile situation, he asked, "John. What are you doing? Are you ok?"

Looking up, John remembered where he was. A look of embarrassment crossed his face. O'Neill helped him up and got him back into his bed.

"What happened, John? Tell me, please," he asked softly.

Sheppard hesitated for a moment, clearly contemplating how much to reveal. Deciding that his dropping to the floor upon hearing his name was a clear give-away, he decided there was no use trying to keep anything back. "Eight," he said simply. "That's my name."

Speaking so softly that the three men had to lean in toward him to hear all the words, John explained, "I was trained to kneel and recite my mantra when the Master spoke my name. When I didn't show proper respect I was punished. It is just instinct now. I'm sorry."

Silence ensued as Lorne, O'Neill, Jackson, and Ronon looked from one to the other. O'Neill broke the silence with an authoritative voice. "Ok. Sheppard, let's get you out of here. I think you'll be more comfortable in your own quarters. What do you think?"

"Yes, sir," John responded quietly and tentatively.

In follow-up to his first order, O'Neill added, "While you get dressed, I need to speak to Lorne and Ronon for a moment." The three men stepped away, leaving Daniel with John.

In the hallway outside the Infirmary, O'Neill spoke immediately, "Look. Whatever happened to him has really fucked him up. I want the man to have some privacy and dignity while he tries to get over the last two years. I need someone with him at all times, at least for the next few days."

Lorne readily agreed, "Absolutely. I'll stay with him."

"I'll reassign your duties for the next few days. John is your first and only priority for now. Ronon, can you stick around and give Lorne some relief? He's gonna need to sleep sometime."

"Sure."

Jack took a deep breath, rubbed his hands over his face, sighed, and then said, "I'm going to talk with him first, once we get him settled. I think I may be able to help him with this more than you guys can."

Lorne looked questioningly to Ronon who simply raised his eyebrow to say, "Don't look at me. I don't know." They stepped back into the Infirmary just as Daniel was helping John into his shirt.

"How 'bout it guys? Let's blow this popsicle stand."

Even after so many years in the city with the Earthlings, Ronon was still occasionally confused by Earth terms. He looked at O'Neill and simply said, "Huh?"

Daniel translated, "It means let's get out of here, Ronon."

"Ok. Let's do it."

In reality, John's personal effects were long gone and his quarters had long since been reassigned to other personnel. Prior to their visit to the Infirmary, O'Neill had spoken with Chuck about securing new quarters for Sheppard. O'Neill touched his headset and called Chuck. "Hey, Chuck? Have you finished the task we spoke about a few minutes ago?"

"Yes, sir. All done. He's assigned to Room 21-789, same hallways as yours and Dr. Jackson's."

"Thanks, Chuck. O'Neill out."

"Let's roll guys."


	14. The Telling of Tales

The group made their way through the various hallways of the city, constantly passing people who smiled and offered greetings to John Sheppard. Some simply stared. Sheppard had become legendary to the new personnel who came onboard after Sheppard was taken.

Arriving at Room 21-789, O'Neill waved his hand over the door control panel and ushered the men inside. "Lucy! I'm home!" he called jokingly. Ronon took up guard position inside the room.

Sheppard had always lived somewhat like a monk – small bed, hardly any personal effects, bare, Spartan, dark and drab. John's new quarters were substantially bigger than his old quarters. These quarters offered a separate living room, small dining room, kitchenette, and two bedrooms.

"Wow," Sheppard announced in appraisal. "I didn't know the city had such quarters. Who lives here?"

"You do," O'Neill answered. "Welcome home, John."

John asked permission to look around the apartment. "Of course, John. This is your home now. This is where you live."

With permission from O'Neill, John wandered around, looking at everything, touching some things, before pausing to look out the windows to the ocean beyond. "Beautiful," he said simply.

O'Neill and the others were seated in the living room area on facing sofas. Sheppard walked toward them, instinctively dropping to his knees. "Sir, may I wash, sir?"

"Of course, John. Lorne? Could you show him where?"

Lorne helped his friend to his feet and led him to the bathroom. John stripped off his clothes and looked for a bathtub. Finding none he looked momentarily confused. Lorne saw his confusion and simply turned on the shower to a comfortable temperature.

"Do you want to shave your beard?"

"More than you could possibly know."

Lorne helped him to remove the scraggily beard from his face. Once that task was completed, John looked into the mirror, touching his face as if it was a distant memory.

"May I?" John asked, looking toward the shower.

"Of course. I'll leave you so you have some privacy."

"Please, don't," John practically begged, stepped out from under the water to try to make the man stay.

"Of course, John. I'll stay here with you."

John washed, rinsed, lathered his hair, rinsed it, and did the whole thing again. Lorne noticed the repeated lathering and wandered what John was trying to wash away. Eventually, though, he seemed satisfied that he was as clean as he could get at the moment.

Lorne handed him a towel to dry. "I'll go get some clothes for you," Lorne said, stepping toward the door.

"Why?"

"Huh? You need clothes, John."

"Why?"

The two men looked at one another, clearly having a major lack of communication. Lorne couldn't understand the alternative to having clean clothes, and Shepherd couldn't understand why one would want clothes. He had, after all, spent more than two years completely naked, both indoors and outdoors, twenty-four hours a day (or however many hours a day that planet had had).

While Lorne stood not knowing what to do, John dropped the towel and opened the bathroom door, stepping out to rejoin the group in the living area. Lorne was practically stuttering about John's need for clothes while John walked to the sofa stark naked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

O'Neill, Jackson, and Ronon looked up as John came toward them with nothing on, but none said a word. Seeing Lorne, O'Neill simply said, "Lorne, come on over and join us." Not knowing what else to do, Lorne walked over toward the men gathered on the sofas.

Rather than sit on the sofa, John again dropped to his knees in front of O'Neill, instinctively bestowing him with the powers of the Master in this circumstance.

"John, you don't have to kneel. Please, come up and sit on the sofa. It's all right. Really."

"No, my place is here. Only the Master sits on the furniture," he said in a tone of voice that one would use had O'Neill just ask them to piss in the punch bowl at a big party.

"John, sit," he tried again.

Hearing the command in O'Neill's voice, John rose from his knees and reluctantly sat on the sofa. Lorne finally moved as well, sitting down next to John, hoping that his presence would bring the man some comfort.

"I see you shaved your beard off," O'Neill said as a conversation starter.

"Yes, does it not please you, sir?"

"It looks good to see your face again, John. Whatever makes you happy."

Bowing his head, John recited part of the mantra that had been programmed into him over the years. "What makes me happy is to obey."

Hesitating for a moment, trying to choose his words very carefully, O'Neill leaved forward and asked, "John, are you able to talk with us about what happened to you over the last two years?"

"As you please, sir."

"If you are comfortable talking, John, I would like to hear in your own words what has happened to you since we lost you."

Sensing the man's intense discomfort with the situation, O'Neill decided to try a different approach. While John looked around, Jack leaned forward and started the conversation.

"John, I don't know what they did to you. I can only begin to guess. I want you to know that we're all here for you. We'll do everything we can to help you get through this."

"Thank you, sir."

"With what I've got to tell you, John, I think you should call me Jack. Maybe it would help you if I told you a little about what happened to me once. Would that be ok, John?"

He paused but John nodded his approval, stilling feeling odd having anyone ask his approval for anything. "A few years back I was kidnapped while on a mission. I was held by Ba'al, one of our favorite Go'auld System Lords. He threw me into a cell with white walls and nothing else. He left me there until he wanted to torture me." Jack paused again, clearly bringing to mind memories that he would rather not remember. "He did unspeakable things to. The one I remember most is where he chained me to a wall and slowly threw knives at me. He made me suffer, killing me slowly. When I was dead, his Jaffa threw me into a Sarcophagus to revive me. Then it was back to the cell and then another round of torture the Colonel until he dies in agony. I lost track of how many times he did this to me. All I remember is that I very nearly lost my mind near the end. I wanted to die once and fall all to escape the torture and humiliation." He paused again, looking down at his feet.

"I obviously survived, thanks to Daniel," O'Neill said placing one of his big hands on Daniel's leg and squeezing appreciatively.

Jack continued. "I had a similar experience, but no one can know what you went through except you, John. We'll do everything in our power to help you re-acclimate." He paused and then continued, "As you might guess, a lot has changed while you've been gone. Some people you knew are gone. There's a lot of new people. We've had battles with the Wraith and a few other new 'friends.' But a lot has remained the same."

Daniel had stepped away momentarily, returning with bottles of cold water for each of the men. Jack looked at Daniel as he sat back down. Daniel took that as his cue to take over for awhile. "John," he started, leaning forward. "Elizabeth is gone. She was killed in a Replicator attack on the city. She died fighting."

John looked away, leaning back into the sofa. None of the men were able to interpret what he was feeling. He looked back and said, "Go on."

"Carson is dead, as well. He was killed in a bomb explosion. They both died heroically in the line of duty, trying to save others in the city. We miss them both terribly."

"I never got to say good bye," was all John had to say. "What else?"

"On a brighter note, Daniel and I live here now. And as you know, I'm your number one fan!"

John smiled.

"Now your turn," Jack said. "What did those bastards do to you, John? Can you tell us what happened to you?"

Sitting back into the comfortable sofa, John closed his eyes and pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging them tightly. "You probably know how my team and I were attacked. I was out of it totally and don't remember anything until I woke up on some other planet. I was in the back of a wagon with my hands and feet bound. We came to some kind of market. I was hauled out of the wagon by two guys and wound up on a stage of some sort in front of a big crowd of people. They striped me, tied my hands above my head, displayed me before the crowd. They auctioned me off like a farm animal at a county fair. That was the last time I wore any clothes until yesterday when the Master gave me clothes for our journey to the Market. I've got to tell you, if I ever find that auctioneer I want to see how he likes someone grabbed his balls and slapping his stomach and talking about what kind of breeding stock he would be."

John rocked back and forth gently, paused, and then continued. "I was bought by some woman. They paid for me, tossed me into the back of another wagon, and hauled me off through the Stargate. When I complained they took this thing that was sort of a cattle prod to me. They told me the next time they would use it on my testicles. As you might expect, I didn't want that to happen. I tried to behave as they asked."

Lorne moved closer to John and put his arm around John's shoulder. John leaned slightly toward Lorne and then leaned his head against Lorne's shoulder. "We traveled for days. On the second half of the journey they roped me to the wagon and made me walk behind. Hour after hour after hour until I could barely stay upright. I had no shoes so my feet were a mess by the end. My wrists were bloody from the ropes, and I was absolutely exhausted.

"We got to their farm where they hauled me out into a field. I was collared and chained to a huge pylon and told to get to work. They told me to water the crops with a bucket during the day. At night I was supposed to patrol the fields guarding against some kind of small animal that was eating the crops. When I fell asleep one night the Master came out to the field, hauled me to the farm yard, tied me spread-eagled in some kind of frame. He had me beat."

When John didn't continue, Jack gently said, "And?"

"And he fucked me. Afterwards I was hauled back to the field and told to get back to work. I kept thinking Rodney and Zelenka were going to pull some miracle out of thin air and find me, getting me out of that hell hole. But nobody came. Nobody showed up to save me. So eventually all I had was what I had. I did what I had to do to survive. I couldn't escape. When I made a mistake they used the cattle prod on me and beat me some more. Day after day, week after week. No one came. My world was from one end of my chain to the other. Nothing more," he said very simply.

"The Master taught me that I had to show him the respect that he deserved. He taught me a mantra. I was ordered to show respect by dropping to my knees and reciting my mantra whenever the Master appeared."

"What was the mantra, John?"

By instinct, John dropped from the sofa to his knees, dropped his head, and recited his mantra. "I am a slave. I live to serve and obey the Master. I own nothing. I have a right to nothing. I control nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing. Everything comes from the Master and by his will. What makes me happy is to obey. What fulfills me is to follow his every command."

Lorne and Daniel visibly cringed upon hearing the words. Jack momentarily closed his eyes and dropped his head. Taking a deep breath, Jack said, "Thank you for sharing those words with us, John. Please come back up onto the sofa, John." When John was once again seated, Jack asked, "Please go on. Tell us more if you can."

"I worked in the field, I respected the Master and serviced him when requested. An old woman came out to the field once a day with bread and cheese. Except when I had misbehaved, then I wasn't worthy of food.

"The crops grew taller. We had a bad storm with lots of rain, lightning and thunder. I was afraid I would be hit by lightning since I had this big ol' chain attached to a huge lightning rod. But the storm passed. The temperature dropped – a lot. I tried to dig a hole in the dirt with my bare hands to try to get out of the wind and try to stay warm. I couldn't.

"The Master appeared and put a leash on me. I couldn't run away because my collar was set to electrocute me if I left the perimeter of the farm. He led me to the barn where he re-chained me. He gave me a blanket," John said with a smile. "That night I thought I was a king. I slept in a soft hay pile and I had a blanket. God, that was nice. I'll never forget that night. I'd had nothing to sleep on, no blanket, no bed, nothing for probably more than a year. Just me and the field with rodents and crops. But that night, oh, that night, I was a king. I had a roof, a pile of soft hay, I was out of the wind and the rain, and I HAD A BLANKET!

"The next day he took me to the house to help the old woman in the kitchen. She had to feed all of the men doing the harvest. It was a big farm so the harvest took a long time. I helped her. It was better than the field. At night the Master chained me in a store room. I still had a blanket – life was good.

"The Master liked my work. He had them wash me. I hadn't had a bath or seen a toothbrush in so long I couldn't remember. The Master fucked me in his bed each evening and then chained me up in the supply room to sleep on the floor." John hugged his legs tighter and pulled away from Lorne, trying to hide in the corner of the couch.

"Usually the Master was there all day, every day, which was good. One day he had to leave the farm on business. The harvesters were working so we had our usual work to do." John hesitated, clearly unhappy to be remembering something. He shook his head, and then continued.

"There was a guy in charge of the harvesters – fancy dressed guy. I didn't know who he was but figured it out later. He apparently needed a little bonus for his workers – and I was it.

"He dragged me out of the house and into the barn where his men were sitting around after finishing lunch." He hesitated again, his eyes still squeezed shut. "They grabbed me and threw me over a bale of hay. With someone holding each of my arms and each of my legs, one-by-one they raped me. When they discovered that I had a mouth as well as an ass, they started shoving their dicks down my throat, too.

"I don't know how long that went on. Could have been minutes, could have been hours. More likely hours because there were so many of them and I can still feel the weight of some of them as they crawled on my back.

"After a while, the men complained that I was too loose. Their boss said that he could fix that problem. He took his belt and beat my ass until I was bleeding. He told his men that that should have tightened me up some and told them to get back to fucking me.

"Seriously, I don't know how long it went on. I couldn't feel anymore. I was numb. I tried to mentally crawl inside myself and separate myself from what was happening to my body. It was so awful that it just didn't seem possible that such a thing could happen. The last man to rape me was too big and really hurt me.

"It all ended, though, when the Master returned. He was clearly shocked and angry that this man had gone into the house and taken his property – me – for his men to fuck. He ordered them all to get out. I don't remember much after that. The next thing I knew I was in a bed and they were rubbing ointment into the welts from the beating. They also put the ointment into me because I had bled a lot. The men apparently tore me up pretty well."

John sat in the same position, gently rocking himself back and forward in tiny moves. After a couple of moments of silence he abruptly stood and said, "I need a break, guys." He walked into the kitchen and ran some cold water in the sink, splashing it onto his face which he held down toward the water. He stood still, water dripping, clearly trying to either remember or learn how to forget. Lorne's face was a mixture of compassion, shame, anger, and shock. O'Neill looked at him and gently nodded his head. Daniel stood and got a towel for John to wipe his face. They returned to the sofas and John continued his story.

"The Master hung around constantly after that, for which I was grateful. The old woman had told me that the harvest would be over soon which gave me hope that the guys would disappear and that I'd never have to see them again.

"Unfortunately, though, one day the guy reappeared. He threatened the Master with the loss of his workers for the next harvest if the Master wouldn't share me. He said that his men had gotten a crack at me but he still hadn't." Eyes once again closed, his legs pulled up into a sitting fetal position, John paused, clearly horrified by what he was recounting.

John continued in a soft, low voice. Lorne, Daniel, and O'Neill had to lean forward to hear him. "He made the Master share me. The Master let him have me for an hour. I was tied to the bed as the man requested. The man's dick was big and he was rough. He really hurt me. I have never felt such pain as I did that afternoon. He just spread my legs and shoved that tree-trunk of a dick up my ass. It wouldn't all fit," John sobbed softly, "but he wouldn't stop. He just started hammering away. Each stroke hurt so much. He just kept shoving, and shoving, and shoving. It hurt so bad."

"Apparently when his hour was up he finished and left me there, tied to the bed. The Master untied me and got someone to help him get me into a bathtub. I was bleeding badly. They were worried. They didn't know what to do. The put me in a bed and stuffed towels between my legs to absorb the blood.

"I recovered and returned to the kitchen. The old woman died. I took her place cooking and tending the farm garden. The old woman. She was the only friend I had in all that time. She didn't even know her own name. She was 'One' – because she was the first slave on the farm." John hesitated, and then whispered, "She couldn't even remember her own name."

"That has got to be one of the worst crimes in the universe. To take away someone's name, who they are, their very identity." The men let John pause. No one said anything, knowing that John would continue when he was able to do so.

"I worked in the kitchen alone after she died. That went on for – must be many, many months – maybe a year or more. I just don't know. I had no way to mark the passage of time, and I was too busy to even care.

"Then the other day, as I told you earlier, the Master gave me clothes, we loaded the wagon, and rode for two days to the market. Ronon found me. That's it. End of story."

During the telling of John's story, O'Neill had noticed the color drain from Lorne's face at some of the more gruesome parts. For a few minutes he had been concerned that the man was going to hyperventilate or pass out. He had tried to assure Lorne quietly with shared looks occasionally. Somehow, though, Lorne held it together. He was as shocked and horrified by John's story as Jack and Daniel were.

The three men sat quietly for a few moments. It was Daniel who spoke first. "John, I am so proud of you. I know it wasn't easy telling us what happened to you. You just displayed strength I don't think I could have in the same circumstance. I've always admired and respected you – that respect and admiration just went up ten-fold."

Of all the things that could have been said, this clearly caught John off-guard. He looked at Daniel, holding his gaze, contemplating the words just spoken. "How can anyone be proud of me? I let myself be captured! I let them break me! I let them start to steal my very being!"

"And not one bit of that was your fault, John! You went through all of that, yes. But look, John, you're here! You survived. I am so proud of you and I have so much respect for you."

"Thank you, Daniel."

Lorne simply put his arm around John's shoulder once again and gave him as much of a hug as he could while sitting.

"Ditto everything they just said," Jack added. "You make me proud, John. Welcome home."

After so many years of working with the man, Daniel noticed a look of contemplation pass over Jack's face, and knew that the man was thinking about revealing some deep, dark secret. Daniel wondered if it would be a new revelation to him or just to Lorne and Sheppard.

"John, I want to tell you something very few people know." All three men studied the General's face, knowing that the façade on this man before them was about to crack to some degree. "Many years ago on a different mission, I was captured in Afghanistan. My chopper was shot down. Everyone else on board was killed on impact. Somehow I survived. I was bruised and broken but alive.

"Some locals came to see what was happening at just about the same time as the men who had shot me down arrived. Before my eyes they shot the locals and left their bodies where they fell. I thought I was next. But no.

"They hauled me out of the wreckage and took me somewhere. I didn't know who they were or where we were going. All I knew is that I hurt everywhere and the ride was making everything hurt worse.

"We ended up God knows where. They hauled me into the basement of some building – I couldn't tell you where. I was thrown into the basement. About a day later some quack doctor came and looked at me. He set one of my broken arms – not gently I might add – and shot me up with happy juice that left me flying high.

"I have no idea how long I was in my happy place – I couldn't see any daylight to help me keep track of time. Then the interrogator arrived to start work – nasty, vicious little prick. Even after so many years I still despise the little weasel. If I suddenly found myself in a room with him I think I could strangle him with my bare hands.

"But I couldn't then because I was weak from hunger, shock, broken bones, and whatever drugs they had given me. His henchmen striped me naked, put me flat on my back, restrained me, and put electrical current claps on my nipples, scrotum, and lower lip. Then they started asking me questions and shooting electricity through the wires when I wouldn't answer.

"I was young. I'd had Special Forces training. I was trained in how to handle such things. I thought I was tough and able to take it. But that man broke me. There's something about having a live electric wire attached to you nuts that will make a man talk.

"When they got tired of that they flipped me over and shoved a cattle prod up my ass – and then turned it on. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. I just wanted it to end. I was in and out of consciousness.

"The next thing I knew, they had me on my back again, had my legs pulled back, and the interrogator was between my legs naked. He didn't have much in the dick department, so I knew I could handle him. But I wasn't prepared for one of the two goons he had with him. That guy was hung like a fucking donkey. I've seen a lot of dicks in my day, let me tell you, but this one scared the begesus out of me. I took one look and thought 'no way in hell is that going where I think he wants to put it.'

"But that's exactly what he did. I was in and out of it so I can't tell you much about it. The next thing I saw was the other guy on top of me, sneering and shouting something in a language I couldn't understand. Then the Interrogator, who did speak a little English, was back on top of me. 'Great big American! Just a fuck toy for real men. All you Americans are worth.' And he spit on me before cumming in my ass. I was there for another 36 hours before my guys got me out.

"But I got out and through the help of friends got myself back together. So I know what you're going through, John." He reached across and took Sheppard's hand in his. "And I'm going to help you get through this."

Tears leaked from John's eyes as he mumbled, "Thank you. For telling me what happened to you, and for being willing to help me. I don't deserve your help. I never should have let myself be captured in the first place. I should have fought back. I should have escaped. I don't deserve any of your help!"

"Enough!" Jack ordered. "Now listen to me. This was not your fault. None of this is your fault. This is the fault of whoever captured you on that road and sold you into slavery. You didn't exactly have any choice in the matter. So enough of that bullshit. Snap out of it and listen to me: You are innocent. Someone took horrible advantage of you and fucked with your mind. I'm sorry it happened. It's over and your friends are here to help you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hey, I thought I asked you to call me 'Jack'?"

As hoped, this comment brought a chuckle from John. "Yes, Jack, sir."

"Ugh. What am I going to do with you, Sheppard," O'Neill complained in mock exasperation. Turning serious, he added, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do with you, John Sheppard, I'm going to support you, help to build you back up, and be there with you as you struggle back. And yes, I'm sorry to say, but it will be a struggle. But you, of any man I know, is able to handle it." Looking across the room, he amended his last statement: "Ok, maybe Ronon too."

Speaking for the first time, Ronon asked, "Maybe?! Maybe?! Just come see me in the sparring ring sometime old man!"

Daniel laughed, but asked Ronon, "Please don't break him Ronon – older bones don't heal as well."

"Hey! When did this become gang up on O'Neill day? And I am not 'old'. I'm distinguished. Some would say even 'foxy'. But not 'old.' Please!"

Leaning across to take his hand, Daniel said, "And you're my silver fox, aren't you?"

"Yes, dear."

Sheppard's eyes widened in surprise. He wondered if he had really heard what he thought he had just heard. But the two men were holding hands so he must have heard it. Sheppard slowly looked at Lorne who nodded his head. He then back to Jack and Daniel.

"Yes, it's true. I'm gay. Daniel is gay. And we're a happily married couple – not 'old' couple, I'll have you know."

"You might be wondering why we chose to reveal this to you now," Daniel commented, still holding Jack's hand. "The reason is simple: it is possible after such an experience to recover and be loved, both emotionally and physically."

"Yes, Sheppard. Rape is traumatic. It leaves some people scarred for life. But those with good and patient friends can get past it, can love and be loved. And it's a wonderful feeling, isn't it Daniel?"

"Absolutely!"

"General," Lorne asked. "Do others know?"

"Some. We don't try to hide it but we don't flaunt it either."

"Jack has the strongest expression of the Ancient gene ever found in any human being," Daniel explained. "He is valuable to Earth beyond measure. He pretty much gets what he wants within some wide parameters."

O'Neill asked, "Is this a problem for you guys?"

"No, sir," they both answered separately.

"No, what?" Jack asked.

Thinking quick, Sheppard smiled and responded, "No, sir, Jack sir."

Throwing his hands in the air in mock exasperation, he rose from the sofa, took Daniel's hand and said, "Come on. We're out of here." As they neared the door, Jack stopped and asked Lorne if he was willing to stay.

"You'd have to drag me away with a team of wild horses, sir. No, I'm not going anywhere. Between Ronon and me we've got it covered."

"Ok. Thanks guys. I'll be back in while to check on you." And he was. Over the next several days, O'Neill was a regular and frequent visitor to John's quarters.


	15. Closure

The following days were not easy for Sheppard or his friends. Lorne stayed with him 24 hours a day, remaining constantly nearby, awake or asleep. At night while Sheppard slept in his new bed and bedroom, Lorne slept just outside the door on the living room sofa, ready in case of a nightmare. And there were nightmares, just as O'Neill predicted.

After the first few nightmares, John refused to close his eyes again for fear of the horror returning. Lorne was only able to calm him by crawling into bed to talk with him for hours until he tired and fell asleep once again. One night John had been sleeping peacefully so Lorne had stepped into the bathroom to take a much needed shower. Just as he was rinsing though, he heard John scream and knew another nightmare had started. Grabbing a towel and tried to dry himself a little on the run back into the bedroom. Tossing the towel aside he climbed into bed and held John, waking him and getting him through the worst of the experience.

When John had calmed down and was breathing more regularly once again, he turned to Lorne and asked, "I just noticed, why are you wet? And do you know that you're getting me all wet, too?"

"Get over it, princess! I was in the shower."

"Showering on the job! I've really got to think about replacing you, I guess."

"In your dreams, fly boy. In your dreams." In spoon fashion, they fell asleep with Lorne wrapped around John, holding him in his arms. For once they both slept peacefully.

Ronon was always nearby, relieving Lorne whenever Lorne would accept the offer. Teyla was also close at hand if needed. McKay, however, stayed completely out of sight, terrified about what had happened to make his friend snap so completely. Meanwhile, John was so fully occupied with re-acclimating himself to the city and the people that he didn't have time to deal with McKay.

For the first day, Teyla brought food to John's room. Teyla, Ronon, and Lorne all talked with John as he needed, never forcing him to talk about things he wasn't ready to discuss. They never knew when they started talking if it would be an easy conversation or one that would end with tears and things being thrown across the room. But they persevered as loyal friends do.

On the second day they walked with John to some of the more remote parts of the city, showing him some of the new areas they had explored and opened up during his absence. A few of their discoveries were truly awesome. John dearly wished that he had been present for a few of them.

The ZPM charging facility, for one, had changed the entire balance of power in the Pegasus Galaxy. Instead of traipsing around the Galaxy looking for nearly exhausted ZPMs, they now had the ability to recharge their own ZPMs. The city was once again at full power, the shields were strong enough to repel any attacker, they had the power to use the Stargate to connect to Earth on a regular basis. John was excited for his people, but inside he was sad that he had missed such a momentous discovery. He longed for the days when he had been on what he called "light switch duty," powering up Ancient gadgets.

On the third day they walked with John to the Mess Hall for his first public outing. They chose a time that was off rush hour. There were people in the Mess Hall, but it was far from peak hour crowds. Also, O'Neill had quietly circulated word throughout the city that everyone, despite their excitement at having Sheppard back, had to back off and give him time to recover and readjust to life in the city.

On the fourth day John slept nearly all night long with only one nightmare. On the fifth day he joined in a small group for a conversation in the Mess Hall. The next day he went for a short walk by himself. And so was the slow but steady course of his recovery.

Gradually he returned to light duty but adamantly refused to go through the gate. No one pushed him, including O'Neill.

About three months after his rescue, John amazed everyone by suggesting in a senior staff meeting that he, Lorne, Ronon and Teyla (and a team of Marines) take a jumper and return to the planet where he had been in captivity for two years.

O'Neill quietly studied Sheppard for a few moments. "Why do you want to go back, John?"

"I need to, to finally have some closure to this whole ugly episode of my life."

"Permission granted."

The next day as they were loading the jumper for the trip, Ronon pulled John aside and told him to just give the word at any time and he would gladly beat the crap out of anybody John wanted – or better yet, shot them. John thanked him for the offer but asked him to hold off for the moment.

For the first time since his return from captivity, John left the city. Lorne was at the controls – John had refused to have anything to do with Ancient technology since his return, a decision that absolutely baffled his friends. Nonetheless they respected his wishes.

The jumper transited the worm hole and exited into the city where John had been rescued. Lorne took the jumper a little higher, asking John to guide them the best he could toward the farm. After only a few wrong turns they found the farm, giving John a view from above. Lorne watched Sheppard closely, trying to gauge his reaction as returned to the scene of the crime.

"Take us in and set it down near the house," John instructed.

When the jumper was down and powered down, the back hatch opened and the heavily armed contingent of Marines exited the craft. John, also heavily armed, left the jumper with Lorne on one side and Ronon on the other. Teyla walked slightly behind the trio.

John walked up to the door of the house and after momentary hesitation, knocked on the door. At first he thought that no one was home, but soon the door was opened a crack to reveal the Master peaking out. He finally opened the door and said, "I suppose you've come to exact revenge. Very well, I'm ready."

"No revenge," John answered quietly.

"Why the hell not?" Ronon protested.

"No revenge," John repeated. "I just want to talk to you for a few minutes. As you can see I've brought a few friends with me this time. May we come in?"

Clearly not expecting this, he agreed. "Yes, please come in."

Once inside John asked if he could show Lorne, Ronon and Teyla a few rooms where he had spent most of his time. The Master nodded his approval but stayed out of their way. John took them first to the kitchen, talking about the work he and the old woman had done, sharing a few additional stories about the old woman and her role in John's life while there.

He showed them the store room where he was chained at night. Lorne kept an arm on John's shoulder during this phase of the visit, clearly worried that this would be too much for John.

John took them next to the old woman's room telling them how she had died one night during her sleep. Next they went to the dining room. John's running commentary ceased at this point. "This is where the man cornered me and bullied the Master into letting him have me."

He led them down the hall. "They led me down this hall into this room." They entered the simple bedroom. John visibly shuddered.

Lorne protested. "John, enough. Let's step outside."

"No!" He closed his eyes, focused himself, took a deep breath, and opened his. "We're not even to the good part yet," he continued.

"This is the bed where I was tied down and raped." He again became quiet.

He led them into another bedroom and announced in barely a whisper, "And this is where the Master loved me."

Lorne asked him to repeat himself but John was already out the door, heading down the hallway and out of the house. He led his group, including several of the heavily armed Marines out into the fields. They hiked to the huge concrete and metal pylon in the middle of the field, stopped when they reached the base of the structure. Touching it with his arm, he said, "And this is where I was chained for the first year – I don't know how long. Here's the hook when the chain was secured."

Looking around at the currently bare field, he said, "This was my field." Lorne saw a small smile on Sheppard's face and would almost have said that there was a note of pride on his face as he told them the last part.

Any smile vanished, though, as Sheppard told the next part. "This is where I lived and worked. This was my entire world for the first year I was here. I saw no one but the Master and the old woman for a year. I had no one to talk with but myself for a year. This is where they broke me step by step by step over the course of that year." John dropped his head and the group respected his need for a moment of silence.

John led the quiet group back through the field to the house. At the front door John asked his friends and the Marines to wait outside while he had a word with the Master.

"I do not think that is a good idea, John" Teyla voice the groups' thinking immediately.

"No way, John. No fucking way," Lorne added.

"Yes," John answered. "You can wait right here. The door will stay open and I'll just be around the corner, not more than 10 feet away. But I'm going in there alone."

Reluctantly Lorne complied, "Yes, sir. But at the first hint of anything I'm in there with gun blazing. I won't be asking questions. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, I do" John answered with a smile. "And thanks, buddy."

Lorne nodded his head and took up position immediately in front of the open front door as John entered the house. As expected, John found the Master sitting in the front room, clearly still expecting to be tortured or executed or both.

John sat in a comfortable chair opposite the Master's chair and stared at the man. In the silence that ensued, the Master met John's stare but was not able to hold it, looking down to the floor.

After several moments of intense study, John broke the silence with one word: "Why?"

The Master looked at him blankly, not quite sure what John was asking.

"Why?" he responded.

"Why? Why did you buy me? Why did you chain me in a field? Why did you dehumanize me, degrade me, and strip me of my self-respect?" John paused and looked down, barely whispering the next words: "And why did you sometimes take care of me like you cared?"

The Master looked at John. For the first time in their encounter a smile flickered across his face.

"Why?" he answered quietly. "Because I loved you."

"Well excuse me for being confused, but you had a strange way of showing it sometimes," John complained in a barely controlled voice.

"Understandable. Through no fault of your own you were brought into a terrible situation."

Leaning forward toward John, he said, "You were bought by my mother. I was adamantly opposed to the move. We had argued about it for more than a year. I had refused all suggestions on the matter and I thought it was closed. And then one day she disappeared along with most of our cash and I knew very well where she had gone and what she had done even before she returned. Then a few days later she returned with you. I was more angry than I can tell you.

"You see, I now know that my mother was not in her right mind. Over the months that followed she got progressively more crazy. As to why I put you in the field, believe it or not, it was to protect you. I wanted to get you out of her sight because I didn't know what she would do with you. It scared the hell out of me.

"Just before the harvest started she slipped over the edge and killed herself. Once I buried her I knew that it was safe then to bring you into the house where you would be at least a bit more comfortable. I had secretly grown very fond of you. You are a handsome, attractive man, and I longed to love you. But I didn't know how given our initial relationship."

"Why did you hang me up and whip me?"

"I'm sorry. My mother and I had a particularly vicious fight just before that. We both stormed out of the house. She rode off on a horse somewhere. I went out to the field to try to calm down. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I'm so very sorry."

John sat contemplating what he was hearing. He quietly asked, "And why, while I was hung up, did you fuck me so slowly and beautifully?"

Their eyes met and held for a moment, a slight smile on the face of both men.

"That was nice, wasn't it? Every time we were together was nice. Your presence helped to calm me. Your smile was captivating."

"That doesn't explain the kneeling and slave mantra you made me recite. You degraded me and dehumanized me."

"We were thrust into a terrible situation. I didn't want you here, but I had you. My mother paid for you with money we didn't have to spare. I couldn't set you free. So I had to do what I had to do to get you to work. I'm sorry."

Again their eyes met. The former smile on John's face was gone and in its place was a stony poker face.

After a moment of silent contemplation, John simply said, "Apology accepted."

"Thank you."

"And I liked the sex, too," John said quietly and lowly. "You're a very caring lover."

"Thanks. You were so beautiful. You are so beautiful. You brought such passion out in me. Your body and spirit are so beautiful. It was an honor to have been intimate with you, my beautiful man."

There was a knock at the door, which had remained open. Lorne appeared in the door. "There's a visitor for this guy, Colonel. Do you want me to keep him out?"

"No. Send him in. We're done here. Thanks Lorne."

Lorne disappeared around the corner. John was standing when he froze. Standing in the doorway was the bastard who had raped him. The man blustered into the room full of self-importance.

"Craylon, who are all of those people?" he demanded. His eyes looked to John. Pointing, he asked, in more of an order than a request, "You. I know you. Why do I know you?"

"You should know me, you pompous prick!" Sheppard practically spat in anger. "Think about it, you son-of-a-bitch!" he practically shouted. Sheppard's entire body had tensed and his face had reflected a seething anger that would have frightened anyone. Anger filled his entire being.

Lorne had reappeared in the door and had come into the room, signaling for several of his men to follow. They stood at ready, clearly reacting to John's response to this man.

"Sorry, no clue."

"Yeah, that's right. You have no clue. No clue about anything." John took a step forward toward the man. Then another and another until he stood inches from him. "Look again. Make my hair longer, add a beard, and take away all the clothes. Bring back any memories?"

The man studied John's face for a moment, and then answered, "You're Craylon's boy, aren't you?" Turning his attention back to the Master, he added, "Since when do you let him put on clothes, Craylon? I liked him naked. Although he does look good without all of the facial hair. So, want to have another go at it? You were a good screamer as I recall. I could make you scream again. I like it when they scream."

At this point something in Sheppard snapped and he lost control. He punched the guy, knocking him to the floor. Sheppard pounced on him and pummeled the man with his fists. When he stopped, he wrapped his hands around the man's neck, squeezing with all of his strength. It happened so quickly that Lorne didn't know what to do at first. He and Ronon reached the same conclusion at almost the same instant, grabbing Sheppard and pulling him off the guy until they could find out what the hell was going on.

It took all of Ronon's strength to hold John back. The man on the floor put a hand to his throat, coughed, and crawled to his knees.

"Sheppard! Calm down!" Ronon ordered. John complied.

"Colonel. Who is this man?" Lorne asked.

"This is the bastard who raped me and nearly killed me."

Instantly all of the safety's on all of the guns in the room clicked off and more than a dozen weapons were raised into position, all pointing at the man on the floor.

"What do you want us to do, Colonel?" Lorne asked.

"I'm not sure," John answered honestly. "A big part of me wants you to shot him right where he is. Another part of me wants to see the bastard suffer like he made me suffer. I need the General's advice on this one. Take him into custody and we'll take him back. The charges are assaulting an officer of the United States Air Force, rape, and attempted murder. If O'Neill lets me execute the guy, maybe I'll take him up in a jumper until we're several miles up, and then push him out the back so he can see his pathetic excuse for a life flash before his eyes as he hurtles to his death."

"Sounds like a plan, sir. Marines, cuff him. And gag him if he gets too mouthy. He's going back with us."

While the Marines hauled John's rapist out to the waiting jumper, John turned his attention back to the Master. The Master was quickly coming to realize the extent of the power that must reside in his former slave. Bowing his head reverently, he commented, "Thank you. That man really is evil. I've despised having to work with him, but there was no alternative to go to – it was him or nothing.

"I heard those men refer to you as Colonel Sheppard. What is your first name?"

John hesitated, debating whether or not he should respond to the question. "John. My name is John Sheppard. My rank is Colonel in the United States Air Force – from Earth – in the Milky Way Galaxy. I am the Military Commander of Earth expedition to the Ancient city of Atlantis here in the Pegasus Galaxy."

Sheppard walked to the door, turning back as he stood in the doorway to the outside, "It's too bad we didn't meet under other circumstances. I think I might have liked you if we had met as equals."

"Me, too," he said wistfully. "Good bye, John Sheppard."

"Thanks." John turned and walked out of the house. He ordered everyone back into the Jumper. Upon entering he walked immediately to the pilot's seat in the front, initiating the jumper systems. "All aboard – this train is leaving the station," he called.

"All secure, sir."

"Good. Let's go home."

 

Chapter Sixteen – Home at Last

As the jumper exited the wormhole in Atlantis, O'Neill looked out from the observation platform above, noting the return of Sheppard and his group. He caught a glimpse of Sheppard in the pilot's seat, bringing a smile to his face.

Despite the press of other duties, O'Neill decided it was time to take a break. He made his way to the jumper bay to personally get an update from Sheppard and Lorne. As he entered the bay the back door of Sheppard's jumper was lowering. John exited, and upon seeing O'Neill, smiled and said, "Honey, we're home!"

"Mission went well, I take it?"

"Yes, sir. I think I put some demons to rest today. Thanks for letting us go, sir."

"You're welcome, Sheppard."

"Oh, General, I hope you don't mind, but I brought one little issue back with us. I would really appreciate your help in deciding what to do with it."

O'Neill's face showed confusion until he saw the Marines escort a bruised and battered man in shackles past him toward the brig. "Your work, Sheppard?"

"Yes, sir," he said with his eyes cast downward. "It wasn't my intention, but the opportunity literally walked up to me and asked – I just couldn't say no."

"I look forward to reading your report."

"General, if you don't mind, I'd rather give this one orally rather than commit it to print – or electrons, or whatever the hell you call it when it's on a computer."

"Permission granted. Come see me when you're ready."

John thanked Lorne and Ronon for their help, both on this mission and in general since his return. They checked in their weapons and went their separate ways to get back to whatever they had scheduled for the afternoon. John reported to O'Neill, as did Lorne later.

Later that evening John was sitting in his quarters trying but failing to read a book. He should be happy – he had made major progress that day. But one last issue remained and it could no longer reside in the back of his mind. He set his book aside and contemplated how he was going to handle this last issue.

A chime announced the presence of someone at his door. Sheppard was not in the mood for company, but he grudging rose from his seat and walking to the door. When the door opened he saw Lorne standing outside the door holding a six-pack of beer. Not just any six-pack of watered-down wolf-piss beer. No, Evan was holding one of John's favorite small-brewery lagers. From the condensation on the bottles he could tell the bottles were chilled. A smile filled his face and he changed his mind about wanting to be left alone.

"Nice! You guessed the password. Come on in! I know I can always count on you to have the perfect solution to a problem, Lorne."

"Anything I can do, sir."

"Drop the 'sir' stuff, Evan." They popped the caps on their first two beers and each took a healthy swig of the beer. "Good stuff. Where'd you get it? This is definitely not the usual stuff they used to send us."

"I've got a friend on the General Hammond. On each run he brings me a few things I request personally. He takes good care of me."

"Good friend to have. Either he or you have good taste in beer. This is one of my favorites."

"In this case I'm the guilty party."

They drank in quiet contented comfort for a few minutes. Before long it was time to pop the top on the second beer.

They drank their first beer largely in silence, savoring the taste of the ice cold hand-crafted beer. Evan knew from experience that John would talk if and when he needed to, so he sat patiently, simply enjoying his beer and his friend's company.

"Evan," John started. "The last couple months have been rough for me. But then you know that because you've been right there with me each step of the way. When I needed to talk, you were there. At night when horrible nightmares took me back to that planet, you were there to help me and hold me.

"You've run interference, keeping people away until I was able to handle seeing them. You've fed me, given me good company, not to mentioned really good beer! Thanks, Evan. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done."

They clinked their beer bottles, smiling at one another. "You're welcome."

They sat silently again for a few moments. Lorne noticed that something else was on John's mind. "What's up, John? There's clearly something else on your mind. Give."

"It's not easy, Evan."

"We specialize in 'not easy.' If it was easy then we wouldn't be doing it! Now talk."

"You've done so much for me – too much."

"I'm not keeping score, John. You'd do the same for me in a heartbeat and you know it. And I'd do it all again if needed. Now talk!"

"I need a favor. And I'm in no position to ask you to do anything more for me." John hesitated. "And it's a big one."

"Ok. You know I'd do just about anything you'd ask. Now you've got me curious. What can I do for you?"

"I'm really uncomfortable asking you this. I wish to God I didn't have to, but there's only a few people I could possibly ask. I can't ask the General, and I can't ask Daniel. I'm certainly not going to ask Ronon! That leaves just you."

"Well, since I'm so high on your list," he said sarcastically. "Way to flatter a guy's ego, Sheppard."

"That didn't come out right. Sorry. I'm nervous."

Snickering, Evan told him to go on. "This is gonna be good," he observed.

"I told you it's a big one."

"Yeah, yeah, every guy thinks they've got a big one," he joked. "John, spit it out! Just tell me what you need and it's yours!"

Taking a deep breath, John set his beer bottle on the table nearby, looked at Lorne, and asked his favor. "I need you to sleep with me, Evan."

"Sure. What's the big deal? I've slept with you lots of times over the last few months. You know I'm there for you buddy."

"No. I need you to sleep with me, Evan."

Evan had just taken a sip of his beer when it dawned on him exactly what John was asking. His mouthful of beer came spitting out flying across the sitting area. Some of the beer went down his throat the wrong way, causing a coughing spell. John patted his back to help him clear his throat and regain control.

"Sorry," he gasped when he was starting to get his coughing under control.

"No problem."

"So, let me see if I'm understanding …"

"I need you to fuck me, Evan."

"That's pretty clear, John. No confusion about what you're asking now."

"You see why I'm really uncomfortable asking you this favor."

"Why, John?"

"I need to know if I can ever be with a man again, Evan. I need to find out – with someone I trust and someone I know is patient and knows the score. Someone who will stop if I ask them to stop. Someone who will understand that if we stop it's not because of them. This will be my first time since being raped. It could be easy or it could be rough. I don't know. I really don't know what will happen.

"And, yes, to answer your first question, yes, I'm gay. I was born gay. I grew up gay. I joined the military gay. I'm gay today and will be tomorrow. It's just who I am. Bottom line: men turn me on."

"I don't know what to say, John. I'm flattered you trust me enough to ask me such a personal favor. I'm babbling here; give me a couple of minutes to think about it."

"You are certainly entitled to take any amount of time you need to think this over. Believe me, it took me a lot of thinking to decide to ask you."

"Well, yeah. After all, I was so high on your list of possibilities!" Evan joked.

"Shut up! I told you that came out wrong."

John opened new bottles for both of them, which they sipped in silence for a few minutes. After drinking two beers, John stepped out of the room to use the bathroom. When he returned, Evan agreed that that was a good idea, following his example.

Back on the sofa they finished off their beers.

"Ok," Evan said simply.

"Ok?" John asked.

"Ok."

"Really?" A look of amazement crossed John's face. In all of the scenarios that had played out in his mind as he completed asking for this favor, this was definitely not the one he expected. Processing what his friend had just told him, the look of amazement was replaced with a look of great happiness. A smile lit up John's face.

"Yes."

"Thanks, Evan."

"It's not a tough task, John. I mean, you're the hottest man in two galaxies. You're the most gorgeous, intelligent, witty man I've ever known. You're a good friend. You've got it all buddy. And those damned eyes of yours. One of your sultry looks could melt steel."

"You flatter me, Evan," he chuckled, flushing with embarrassment.

Leaning toward John, Evan smiled. John leaned toward his friend and their lips came together in a gentle kiss. Their passion gently rose as the kiss continued and intensified. Evan put his hand around the back of John's neck, guiding him. John fell back on the sofa, pulling Evan on top of him, continuing the kiss. He moaned in passion. "Oh, God, Evan. You are so fucking hot!"

"Right back at you, buddy. Want to stay here or move to the bedroom?"

"Oh, bedroom, definitely." He took Evan's hand and led him to the bedroom. They came together in another passionate kiss, breaking away only long enough to remove their clothes as quickly as possible. They kissed again, hands running over one another's back.

They fell to the bed, limbs entwined, hands roaming over one another's body. Both men had throbbing erections that rubbed together. "Jesus, John. I've dreamed of this for years but never dared to make a move."

Smiling, John kissed his friend. "Well, I may not be at my peak performance, sorry to say."

"John! There's no pressure. We do what feels right to you. Nothing more! Got it?"

"Ok. Thanks for your patience, Evan."

Lorne's answer was conveyed in a kiss.

John rolled onto his back, pulling Evan over on top of him. Their kiss continued. John spread his legs, bringing his right leg up to wrap around the back of his partner's leg. Evan rubbed his throbbing erection across John's belly. John lifted his other leg like the first. Evan settled between John's open legs, breaking their kiss only long enough to moan in ecstasy. "Jesus," he muttered between kisses. "You are so fucking hot, John. I've never felt so aroused before in my life."

"Yeah, right!"

"I'm not lying, John. You are the hottest man I've ever been with. No joking. I haven't exactly been with that many men. You know, the military sort of makes it hard to pick up men."

"I know," John kissed him, rubbing Evan's legs with his feet.

"You sure about this, John?" Evan asked when he came up for air after an especially intense kiss.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure."

"Ok."

Evan removed his mouth from John's, lowering himself to gently chew of John's nipples, first one and then the other. John had never paid much attention to his nipples before so he had no idea a man's lips on his nipples could do such good things for him.

After a few final nips and licks, Evan's tongue licked its way down John's stomach to his belly button, and then down to John's crotch. Licking at the head of John's engorged member, Lorne teased his partner. He licked down the shaft of John's penis, nuzzling his lips in John's balls. Moving back up to the tip of John's penis, Lorne's lips spread to take in the head of his penis. His hands simultaneously rubbed John's stomach and pinched his right nipple.

Lorne's mouth encompassed the head of John's dick, slowly lowering to the base of his penis, taking John's full length in one smooth move. John arched his back, moaning in pleasure, grabbing Lorne's hair with his hands.

His mouth remained wrapped around the head of John's dick, moving back up until just the head was inside. Without releasing its hold on John's dick, he sank back down until the full length was once again deep in Lorne's throat.

He repeated the move which clearly felt good to his partner. With a quickening pace, Lorne worked on John's erection. Slipping off to one side of John without ever losing its grip on John's erection, Lorne used one of his hands to gently rub John's balls before slipping down to the area between John's legs. Ever so gradually and gently, one of his fingers touched John's hole, gently sweeping back and forth.

Lorne took his lips off John's dick, pulling himself back up on top of his partner. Their lips locked together again. "You doing ok, John?"

"Oh, sweet Jesus, yes. Evan, where in the world did you ever learn to work such magic?"

"You like?"

"I like! May I please have some more, sir?"

"Ok. Since you asked so nicely I'll see what I can do." Before moving, though, Lorne kissed and nipped at John's right ear. He followed the same course as earlier, licking his way down John's body until his lips were once again wrapped around John's erection. As his mouth worked its magic, his fingers returned to their work on John's ass.

John didn't know how he had done it, but Evan had found some lubricant. This time when his fingers returned to John's ass they were slicked. Gently, ever so gradually, he teased John's hole. While his mouth drove John nearly insane with his oral skills, his fingers worked gently back and forth, ever so gradually slipping more inside his partner. Before John even knew, Evan had one finger fully inside his butt.

Evan worked diligently to relax John and his butt muscles. Over the next few minutes he continued to suck John's dick, pausing occasionally to suckle his balls and all around the base of John's dick. He also worked another finger inside John and then another. John had been almost terrified about having sex with a man again. He hadn't been sure he would even be able to go through with it, but he had never counted on an experience like he was having.

When Evan felt that John's butt and his mood were ready, Evan lifted himself back on top of John and kissed him again. "Ready?"

"Oh, yeah. Fuck me, Evan. Please?!"

John had both of his legs wrapped around Evan's body with his heels digging into Lorne's butt, egging him onward.

Somehow Lorne lubricated his dick and positioned his erection for insertion. He kept his eyes on John's face throughout his entry. John moaned, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. "Oh, yes."

Taking John's encouragement, Evan slowly slipped his erection inside John until he was resting balls-deep in John's ass. Once fully inside his lover, Evan held still, kissing John once again passionately. He hooked John's legs around his shoulders, kissed him again, and then gently withdrew an inch of his erection from John before easily pushing back inside. Two inches withdrawn and gently pushed back inside. And so continued the pattern. Working very carefully to read his partner and give him a good experience, Lorne followed John's lead by continuing what he was doing.

Gradually Lorne was pulling out most of his penis before thrusting back inside his partner. John's ass was so hot and tight, Lorne knew he wasn't going to be able to last very long. While he had been asked by his friend to help him, this was certainly no hard duty. He was having as good an experience as John seemed to be.

Thrusting more quickly, Lorne moaned to match John's moan. "Oh, God, John. I'm not gonna last."

"Go for it, please! Fuck me, Evan. Fuck me."

With a few final thrusts, Lorne erupted. His orgasm was all-encompassing, curling his toes and making his entire body shudder. Spent, Lorne collapsed on top of John, out of breathe and in ecstasy.

"John, that was phenomenal."

"Me, too, buddy. Thanks."

"Good. But we're not done yet." Lorne's erection had returned to its normal size, gently slipping from John's ass. Lowering John's legs back to the bed, Lorne laid down beside John and returned his mouth to John's erection, which was still as hard as when they started.

It didn't take much work to bring John to an equally all-encompassing orgasm. Lorne's lips never left John's penis, sucking him dry. When John's erection started to subside, Lorne lifted his head from John's crotch and crawled back up to lay on his side facing John.

Head-to-head, they smiled at one another, occasionally kissing.

"Really, Evan, thanks. I didn't honestly know if I could get past the rapes and ever handle the idea of being with another man ever again, of having another guy, even one I desired, touching me, and possessing me in the way that's part of making love with a guy.

"But you did it. And it was phenomenal. You took me to places I've never been before. And you can see why I needed a really special friend to help me with this. I couldn't just grab the first hot Marine and say, 'Hey, big boy, want to fuck some slightly abused Colonel ass?'

"That was great, Evan. I've got to remember to ask you for favors more often."

"Anytime, my friend, anytime. I think I saw God! I know I was in heaven," Lorne answered with a mischievous smile on his face. But you know, to really be sure the experiment worked, I think we need more data. And that means we're just gonna have to do it again – and again, and again – until we've got enough data to make a decision."

"You've been spending entirely too much time with scientists. But how do we tell when we've got enough data?" John asked.

"It's gonna take a lot of work, and a lot of patience, and I'm sorry to say, a lot of repetition and maybe some variation. But it's all in the name of science. You know, pushing back the frontiers, and stuff like that."

"You were pushing something all right, but I don't know if they were frontiers. And besides, it's not just the advancement of scientific exploration. I think the theologians might be interested in your 'I saw God' observation. You know, once and for all you could settle that millennia old debate about whether or not God really exists."

"They're on their own," he answered, kissing John again and rubbing his hands over his lover's lean, trim stomach.

"You're too much, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know. I've spent a lifetime practicing. Think you can handle me?"

"I'm certainly going to try."

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."

And John rolled over on his other side, Evan wrapped his arms around John's waist, and cuddled up behind him, holding him tight and protecting him from whatever the universe could throw their way. They slept a peaceful sleep. Colonel John Sheppard was home.

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the second slash fan story I've ever written and certainly the first of this nature. Any and all comments, suggestions, recommendations gladly accepted.


End file.
